


As Luck Would Have It

by Leafshadow2



Category: Naruto
Genre: Bad Pick-Up Lines, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Icha Icha Series, Knitting, Movie Night, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-03-13 07:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 49,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13566000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leafshadow2/pseuds/Leafshadow2
Summary: Who would have guessed that Kakashi and Sakura would have fallen in love over awkward moments and a bet about the Icha Icha series? But, when suggestive lines abound, sparks are bound to fly.





	1. A Vow

_Get a hold of yourself! You’re an adult with needs, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,_ she argued sternly with herself.

  
Considering that she had been internally lecturing herself while seemingly staring intently at a single store display, Sakura figured that she should move soon. No need to make her uneasiness noticeable—possibly _more_ noticeable, at this point. Just what had she been pretending to be entranced by for the past twenty minutes, anyway?

  
Drawing her focus outside of her mind, the medic was shocked to realize that she had supposedly been examining a relatively innocuous wall holding hosiery. In other words, she’d intently been studying a wall full of hosiery longer than should be humanly possible unless the viewer had a leg fetish.

  
_Lovely, I can’t seem to act natural._

  
In fact, Sakura hadn’t left her current spot since she first entered Lucky’s Adult Emporium. She didn’t know who Lucky was, but she assumed he made a decent income, considering that he seemed to have a monopoly on all adult _boutiques_ in Konoha. Fingering a package of fishnet stockings, she glanced around the shop as casually as possible. Behind her, a young man rifled through a selection of DVDs that appeared much more graphic than Kakashi’s preferred written… _erotica_. The Copy Nin grew defensive when the term “porn” was used to describe Jiraiya’s books.

  
She shuffled a bit to the left, pretending to be absorbed in reading the description of a lacey, red garter belt set proclaiming to be new and improved. Apparently, the straps were now adjustable. Sneaking a peek to the right, she merely caught a glimpse of a woman carrying risqué outfits to the curtained-off fitting room.

Moving to a pair of white thigh-highs, she chanced another look around the store.

  
No luck.

  
There was an astonishingly large variety of lube and bachelorette party supplies, but no sign of what she was searching for. She felt heat begin to creep into her face at the thought of having to ask an employee for assistance. Her heart began to race.

  
_Seriously? You’ve killed people with your bare hands without breaking a sweat! Why are you panicking now?_

  
Apparently, Lucky’s Adult Emporium was more nerve-wracking than heading into battle. Shoving all vehement mental scoldings aside, she forced herself to steady her furiously beating heart and master the blush taking up residence on her cheeks. She would just take a quick walk around—as soon as she convinced her legs to cooperate—to see if the store carried what she was looking for. If not, then she would leave. At this point, she was mostly hoping for the latter.

  
Taking a deep breath, she managed to stroll past the cashier counter, pretending a fascination with the corsets hanging opposite of it. Quickly averting her eyes from the restraints and floggers just beyond, she spotted an additional room that had been hidden from view until now.

  
_There_.

  
Somewhat relieved, she strode into the room. Too late, she noticed the attractive, friendly looking woman standing beside a glass display case in the center of the area. Sakura judged the distance between the entryway she had just come through and the woman rapidly making her way towards her. She wouldn’t be able to make a retreat in time. “Hello, can I help you find anything, or—”

  
“I’m fine, just looking, thanks,” Sakura interrupted, cutting off the woman’s cheerful spiel.

  
Inwardly, she cringed, feeling like she had been too abrupt. The saleswoman, who seemed to be only a few years older than the kunoichi, returned to her previous post. Trying to eradicate any self-consciousness, Sakura moved to one of the three walls from which a diverse array of vibrators hung. She browsed a rack of bullet and other external massagers, contemplating what would suit her best.

  
Between missions, increased hours at the hospital, and Naruto’s overprotectiveness, her dating life had become nonexistent. It had been a while, longer than she cared to remember, since she had last been intimate with anyone. Sometimes her fingers just weren’t enough. The medic had decided it would be much easier to simply take care of matters on her own, hence why she found herself currently surrounded by a rainbow of brightly colored dildos and vibrators.

  
She resisted the urge to scoff when she stopped in front of the display of “realistic” toys. None of her previous partners had been quite so well-endowed as the silicone dildos in front of her. Peering curiously into a tall, locked case, Sakura nearly choked when she saw the astronomical prices of the items inside. She found herself staring at a circular…thing. It wasn’t a cock ring, and she couldn’t quite figure out its exact use. Such as which crevasse or body part it was meant to go in or lay on, respectively. Regardless, she guessed that the answer didn’t matter all that much, considering that she wasn’t going to shell out a month’s salary for the toy. She still had rent and grocery bills to pay.

  
She glanced up when she heard footsteps heading towards the room. A middle age man strolled in, drawing the saleswoman’s attention. Sakura silently thanked him for that. She felt more at ease now that the woman was distracted, helping the man find a strap on dildo for his wife. Sakura continued her path around the room, silently questioning why ninety percent of all the toys seemed to be bright pink.

  
She had been hoping for something with a bit more subtle color, considering that most of her teammates didn’t seem to comprehend the concept of personal boundaries. While she never planned on bringing anything purchased here along on a mission, her team seemed to make themselves at home in her apartment more frequently than she would prefer. While Sasuke would never rummage through drawers in her bedroom, Sai did not have the same grasp of social niceties. Additionally, Sakura had come with the intent to find something that could be easily hid from hyperactive blonds that possessed a flagrant disregard for not snooping through others’ personal things. Unfortunately, that description fit both Ino _and_ Naruto.

  
She stopped to consider an assortment of internal vibrators that seemed to be more reasonably priced. Eventually, she decided upon a black one in a rabbit style. Grabbing a box, she hurriedly walked towards where the cashier was, eyes firmly fixed on the tile floor. At least that was the case until an all too familiar voice stopped her in her tracks. “I thought for sure that you would choose the pink one.”

  
Sakura reflexively clutched the box—with images of its contents plastered blatantly all over—tightly to her stomach. _Right, like that’s going to help hide what you’re doing here_ , she sneered at herself.

  
Her head snapped up. An angry, albeit more than slightly mortified, glare bore down on the silver-haired ninja before her. Sakura cursed herself for not noticing that there was a book section tucked away in the shop. She cursed herself even more for failing to realize _who_ was browsing said book section. _Idiot, and you call yourself a shinobi_ …

  
Her body temperature seemed to rise several degrees as a jumble of rage, embarrassment, and irritation flooded her. Kakashi grabbed the back of his neck with his hand, almost nervously. “Yo,” he greeted.

  
She wanted nothing more than to punch that amused eye crinkle off his masked face. However, she got the feeling that the store frowned upon its patrons beating up one another, regardless of how deserved it might be. The last thing the medic needed was to draw attention to herself by being forcibly removed from an adult boutique. “Breathe a single word of this to anyone and I’ll kill you,” she hissed, eyes narrowing. “I mean it, no one will be able to find your corpse once I’m through with you.”

  
He lifted his hands in a placating manner. He promised, “point taken, not a word.”

  
She stormed off, grabbing the first containers of lube and toy cleaner that she came across. She plunked her items down onto the checkout counter, forcing a smile at the blond cashier with vibrant blue eyeshadow. The woman eyed Sakura suspiciously, before asking to see an ID. “Uh, sorry?” the kunoichi asked.

  
“I just need to see an identification card to verify that you are eighteen,” the cashier responded politely.

  
_Shit_.

  
As a shinobi, Sakura was not allowed to carry around any identification other than a Leaf hitai-ate, even within the village. Unfortunately, in an effort to not be recognized—as if her pink hair wasn’t a dead giveaway—entering and exiting Lucky’s establishment, she had decided to don civilian clothing. The suspicious look the woman had given her made sense now. She had been taking in Sakura’s youthful appearance, along with her pink hair and…less than well-endowed figure. Now, here she was at the age of twenty-two, without an ID or hitai-ate, making it seem like she was a minor trying to get away with buying a vibrator. Between this _and_ running into the man that was her former sensei and current colleague while embracing a vibrator, the universe was clearly letting her know that today was _not_ her day.

  
She froze, mind whirling. Then she heard _his_ voice again. “She isn’t allowed to carry an ID,” Kakashi told the cashier from over Sakura’s shoulder, tapping the hitai-ate covering his left eye. “Shinobi regulations, and all that. I can vouch that she’s over eighteen. By the way,” he added, setting two familiar books down beside her own attempted purchases, “she’ll also take these.”

  
In the instant it took Sakura to scowl at the distinct green and orange covers of the _Icha Icha_ volumes, he managed to disappear in a cloud of smoke. He slipped away before she could sink her vengeful claws into him. The blond woman accepted Kakashi’s words and began to ring up the items. Through the red haze that seemed to cloud her vision, Sakura managed to exchange cash for the purchases now tucked inside a discreet bag.

  
She left the emporium as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her ankles. “One of these days I’m actually going to kill that man,” she vowed fiercely as she was swept up into the crowd on the street. “One day soon.”


	2. A Bet

Sakura felt as if she would burst a blood vessel any second now. Tamping down on the overwhelming urge to trample over all the pedestrians around her, she searched the crowd. While her shorter than average stature proved to be a bit of a hindrance, it didn’t take too long to spot her prey. An unruly mop of silver hair rose above the masses, drawing her attention like a beacon. There was no mistaking his seemingly gravity-defying hair. Seriously, she knew plenty of women that would kill—or at least shell out a small fortune—to achieve that kind of volume with their own hair.

Furiously shouldering her way towards him, the kunoichi ignored the various protests as she shoved people aside. Normally she would be contrite at her rudeness, but these were hardly ordinary circumstances. Besides, her anger blinded her to anything other than the source of her discomfiture.

Finally, she reached him. “Hey!” she began, yanking on the collar of Kakashi’s flak vest. “What was—”

_Poof._

The adrenaline of an imminent fight had just lost its preferred outlet, and it fueled her rage to even greater heights. “Substitution jutsu?” she snarled at the log before her. Kicking it, she ignored the slight twinge of pain that greeted her foot. “Why won’t you let me punch you?”

She figured that shouting and shaking her fist angrily in the air might be a bit over the top. Then again, considering that her teammates mostly consisted of overdramatic drama queens, she felt that it was her turn to indulge in some theatrics. Realizing that she wouldn’t be able to find Kakashi while he was hiding as if his life depended on it—which it just might—she decided to blow off steam another way.

Two hours later Sakura had successfully wrecked her preferred training grounds beyond all recognition. Proudly gazing out at the numerous craters and multitude of uprooted trees that littered the unstable ground, she came to a conclusion. Whoever fixed the landscaping really deserved a raise. In other words, she’d have to bring the long-suffering Yamato a bag of his favorite roasted walnuts to avoid that disturbing glare of his.

Having blown off a sufficient amount of frustration, she decided to head home. The time she spent walking back and cooking dinner was also dedicated to plotting. Plotting how to achieve revenge against Kakashi. He would regret ever stepping foot into Lucky’s while she was inside the establishment. The humiliation of the whole debacle still simmered in her blood.

Beating him up in a not so friendly sparring match wouldn’t be enough, though that didn’t mean she wouldn’t do that as well. He should be grateful that she planned on letting him keep his life. Then again, death would let him off the hook too easily. In between mouthfuls of miso soup— _without_ eggplant—she thought that she had finally devised the perfect punishment.

Eying the unassuming bag laying on the coffee table, she figured that tomorrow would be soon enough to set her plan into motion. In the meantime, she could indulge in a different means of stress relief…

Sakura picked up the bag, merely to fling it away seconds later as if it were burning. _They_ were inside. Tentatively, as if they might transform into snakes at any moment, she removed the two books. Staring down at the all too familiar green and orange covers, she was reminded of Kakashi. A blush bloomed on her face against her will. She wasn’t sure if it was born of anger, mortification, or both.

_Probably both._

That scene at Lucky’s would probably haunt her nightmares for years to come. Honestly, it was worse than when she ran into Iruka-sensei the first time she ever had gone bra shopping. She had frantically tried to hide the cotton training bras, only to accidently send them flying into the air. Murphy’s law had dictated that, of course, that the lilac and white bras ended up landing right on top of his feet. Iruka had courteously handed them back to her, both their faces turning the same shade as her hair. He’d tried to make her feel better by stammering about how “natural changes in growing bodies” were nothing to be embarrassed about. Oddly enough, she hadn’t been reassured. Instead, she had run away, abandoning him mid-lecture. That poor man.

Her current predicament was unfortunately far more mortifying. Then again, she had never fantasized about Iruka, unlike a certain silver haired—

_Bad, Sakura! Stop thinking about him!_

Shaking her head in an effort to dispel her racy thoughts, she carried her bag and new reading material into the bedroom. Tossing everything onto the bed, she flung herself across the red duvet decorated with white flowers. She opened up _Icha Icha Paradise_ , deciding that since she’d been forced to purchase the books she should at least get her money’s worth. If she wasn’t satisfied, she could always personally demand a refund from Jiraiya. She knew where he lived, and the author was understandably wary of women that could fracture every bone in his body with a single punch.

An illicit thrill ran through her as she turned to the first page. For all that she had criticized Kakashi for his literature choices, she had always been secretly curious as to the contents. A few hours later she wished that she had bought the book years ago. She definitely hadn’t been expecting it to be quite so _good_. Apparently, she also had a thing for raunchy humor. She had been predicting overly graphic descriptions of sex—admittedly, she hadn’t been wrong in that respect. But, she never would have guessed at the thrilling and emotionally touching plot. She’d been forced to hold back tears at the portrayal of the heroine, Himitsu, dying in her lover’s embrace. She could only conclude one thing: Kakashi was secretly a bleeding heart romantic.

Glancing at the clock resting on the nightstand, shock came over her when she read the time. It was four in the morning. Thankfully, it was officially her day off from the hospital. Flipping through the book she had just finished, she stopped at one of her favorite scenes. Granted, there were only so many times that a phallus could be referred to as a “mighty weapon” before it became cringe-worthy. However, it wasn’t difficult to envision herself in the place of Himitsu. To imagine how heated caresses on the most intimate parts of her would feel. How shivers would run through her as passionate words were whispered in her ear. The thrill of seeing her lover’s head disappearing between her thighs…

Overall, the novel had left her hot and bothered. Feeling that empty ache within her, she reached for the bag sitting nearby. Thankfully, a recent acquisition could help alleviate her little problem. 

Hours later, after finally sleeping, she wandered around town to find someone that could answer her question. Finding Naruto at Ichiraku’s like she knew she would, Sakura greeted him. She waited for the brief moment when his mouth wasn’t full of food. “Do you know where Kakashi is?”

“No, why do you want to know, anyway?”

“Oh, I just have something that I’ve been meaning to give him,” she said aloud. Internally she raged, _just a nice dose of revenge!_

Adequately distracted by the ramen in front of him, the blond didn’t ask any further questions. She made her excuses and left. It wasn’t that much later when she ran into Shikamaru and Choji. The Nara told her that the Copy Nin had been called away on a solo mission until tomorrow. She thanked him while he muttered something about how troublesome it was to be called away for such a short time.

Sakura wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that Kakashi was away. On one hand, it made setting her trap easier. After all, it would be significantly more difficult to rob his place while he was lazing around in it. On the other hand, her vengeance would take that much longer to accomplish.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the side of town that Kakashi lived in. The buildings were older, but lovingly maintained. Quickly scaling the building to the second floor, she let herself perch on his windowsill. It had long since become a common sight to everyone that lived in the area. A few feet away from Sakura, the Copy Nin’s neighbor was tending the flowers on her small balcony. The medic waved, smiling as the elderly woman greeted her. “Hello, dear. Are you here to water Kakashi’s houseplants again?”

“Yes, Mrs. Ito. He’s out on another mission. How are you today?” she asked the kindly woman.

“I am doing just great. I only wish that I’d known he was gone before I baked enough cookies to include him at today’s meeting.”

The meeting in question was one of the bimonthly gatherings of the knitting circle that was presided over by Mrs. Ito. So far, Kakashi had managed to make excuses in order to avoid attending. In a particularly devious mood, Sakura smiled brightly before replying. “I know that he feels bad about always missing the club meetings, especially since he looks forward to each of them. I’ll make sure that he can attend the next one.”

“Thank you, dear. I’m so glad that that young man has you to look after him.”

With one last wave, Mrs. Ito headed back into her dwelling. Kakashi always got a kick out of his neighbor referring to him as a _young_ man. He said that it was a nice change of pace from Naruto’s constant teasing of the masked shinobi becoming old. He enjoyed the reminder that he wasn’t in his dotage quite yet.

Jiggling the window open, Sakura let herself into the bedroom. One would assume that an accomplished ninja would set up a high quality security system with numerous traps laid with chakra. Kakashi, however, couldn’t even be bothered to install the simplest of locks on his windows. His door was only ever locked when she did it herself. _Then again_ , the kunoichi mused as she walked around his familiar room, _there’s not much reason to lock up._

Someone would never be able to guess at Kakashi’s more than comfortable savings account by observing the place he lived—or his habit of foisting meal tabs on others. For a man that professed to hate hospitals, his living quarters bore an uncanny similarity to the sterile feel of them. Nearly barren walls and plain carpet greeted her. The few indications of any personality of the room’s owner were the two pictures resting beside the bed and _Icha Icha_ memorabilia scattered around. They were a stark contrast to the monotone color scheme of white that continued throughout the apartment.

The photos of Team Minato and Team Seven were the most sentimental items in the whole place. The bookcase full of Jiraiya’s volumes held only questionable value. There wasn’t exactly anything that a thief would merit to be worth the effort of stealing. The only thing that graced the walls, hanging above the bed, was her target. Kneeling on the grey, shuriken patterned sheets—Kakashi’s rare concession to whimsy—she began to remove the item.

The limited edition _Icha Icha Tactics_ poster had only been available through preordering its corresponding book. Kakashi had even had Jiraiya sign it for him. In short, it was the Copy Nin’s materialistic pride and joy. Sakura took care when placing it in the protective carrying case she had brought. This was sure to get his attention. His payback for interfering with her visit to Lucky’s was coming soon. She hastily scrawled a note and taped it where the poster had previously hung.

* * *

By the time that Kakashi passed through the gates of Konoha, he was exhausted.  As in, so tired that he might not shower off the dust from travel that clung to him before falling into bed. More importantly, he might not reread some of his favorite chapters before passing out.

While his mission had not been difficult, it had been rather time sensitive. Because he had left almost three hours later than expected, he had had to push himself while in transit to make up for lost time. Thankfully, he’d managed to come away from the retrieval mission nearly unscathed. He had only acquired a few superficial wounds that could wait to be tended to until the next time he saw his favorite medic.

Then again, considering that she’d been attempting to secretly purchase her, uh…battery operated bed companion the last time he ran into her, that might not be a good idea. It was likely that she would transform his minor cuts and bruises into fractured bones and ruptured organs.

 _Hm, maybe I shouldn’t have approached her_.

What was that saying about hindsight being twenty-twenty? Regardless, he just couldn’t seem to resist gravitating towards her, even if it proved to be potentially life threatening for him. As he passed Training Ground Three, he simply furthered his point.

Some of his exhaustion leached away as he took in a pleasantly surprising sight. Though he was probably risking his health and well being, his feet took on a life of their own as they headed towards the pink haired kunoichi. The kunoichi that happened to be reading the first book in the _Icha Icha_ series at the base of a tree, mimicking a position that he himself had assumed on numerous occasions. He found himself smiling as he interrupted her, “I see that you’re enjoying my recommended reading.”

“Yep, you should start a book club,” she stated dryly. “I can’t believe that you read these in public, let alone around impressionable, young kids. Honestly, these books are terrible!”

Despite her harsh words, she never looked away from the pages before her. He had no way of knowing that this was her second time reading that particular volume. A slight flush stained her cheeks. “So you’re saying that you don’t enjoy them?” he inquired.

“They contain inferior character development and woefully inadequate plotlines.”

“But do you _like_ them?”

She responded quickly, too quickly. “No.”

Her face reddened even further. “Liar,” he muttered.

She finally turned to face him, eyes sparking with temper.

_There she is._

Kakashi prepared himself for an upcoming attack, but she seemed to tamp down on her rage. For some reason, he found himself feeling disappointed at that. “I wouldn’t exactly consider them to be high literature. But…I am annoyed that you didn’t have me buy the second book, just the first and third,” she admitted reluctantly. He smirked beneath his mask. “Don’t look so smug,” she snapped.

His voice was full of feigned innocence when he replied with, “me? Smug? Never.”

His words weren’t met with physical violence, oddly enough, just a scoff from the medic. Well, a scoff and a very impressive eye roll. “Anyway,” she began, standing up. “I should go. I wouldn’t want to get such a precious book _wet_.”

She glanced at the river before leaving. He didn’t understand her emphasis on the final word. She couldn’t be implying…

 _Mind out of the gutter, Hatake,_ he scolded himself.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Now alone, he continued on his way home. During the rest of his walk, he wondered about Sakura’s unusual passiveness. He had been—for some strange reason—looking forward to her confrontation upon his return to Konoha. He hadn’t expected the medic to act as though _the_ _incident_ had never occurred.

As he swung open his unlocked door, he decided that sleep would be his first order of business. The mission report could wait a week or two…maybe a few months. Ready to drop into bed and blissful oblivion, the shinobi came to a sudden halt as he entered his bedroom. In that instant he understood the reason behind Sakura’s uncharacteristic lack of aggression earlier. She had devised something much more terrifying as retribution for his impulsive actions at Lucky’s. Something that just might require him to seek emotional therapy later on.

Undeniable panic welled up within him as he saw that his beloved _Icha Icha Tactics_ poster was missing. In its place was a note that caused his hands to tremble as he held it. The words written in Sakura’s flowing, neat script only served to ratchet his worry up to new heights. Had he been anyone else, he would have been ashamed of the high-pitched screech that left his mouth as he read the terrifying sentence.

_It’d be such a shame if this were to get wet._

Exhaustion was nothing but a distant memory as Kakashi propelled himself to a speed he hadn’t previously known he was capable of. He had to reach the artwork before unspeakable abuse could be done to it.

After what seemed like ages, he came to a frenzied stop several feet away from where Sakura stood upon the middle of the river. With a victorious smirk, she allowed the rolled up paper to unravel, letting it get uncomfortably close to the currents below. “There’s no need to do anything hasty, now,” he told her slowly, hands raised in a placating manner.

The evil woman tilted her head. Voice toying, she responded, “it’s not exactly hasty if I thought it over for two days, now is it?”

She left him with no choice but to fulfill her demands, whatever they might be. If he attempted anything, he’d risk the poster falling into the water. She had thought this out well. Kakashi never thought that he would see the day he that he cursed her intelligence.

 _Damn_.

Sakura pretended to let go of the poster, and the Copy Nin could have sworn that he suffered a not so minor heart attack. “I’m sorry! The next time you go vibrator shopping, I promise not to say anything!”

Judging by the furious expression on her deceptively lovely face and the way she tensed—he hoped her tightened grasp didn’t wrinkle the paper—he must have said the wrong thing. “Why don’t you repeat that just a little louder? I’m not sure that they heard you in Suna!”

A slight breeze picked up, sending a spray of water near the poster. He winced at the close call. “I’ll do whatever you want,” he blurted out.

Relief swept through him as she raised the dangling paper up higher. “Fine,” she told him. He didn’t like the satisfied smirk that settled on her lips. “Strip.”

For a second he doubted his hearing. Then, a smirk of his own appeared as he processed what she had ordered. “Why, Sakura,” he began smoothly, unzipping his flak vest. He wasn’t going to lie; he’d fantasized about her telling him to do just this, in that commanding tone of hers, far too often in recent years. While most of the imagined scenarios also involved impractically short medic uniforms, he wasn’t going to be picky. “All you had to do was ask,” he finished as he whisked off the vest.

She appeared unamused as she threatened to plunge his prized possession into the river beneath her feet. It didn’t hurt his ego…much. He tried a different tactic as he tugged off his long-sleeved shirt. “You don’t want to damage that poster. You’ve come to love the _Icha Icha_ series, just admit it.”

She refused. After several minutes of prodding, during which he slowly peeled off his skintight, sleeveless undershirt, she relented. Some of his wounded pride was recovered as he caught her sneakily taking in the sight of his bare torso. “Okay, it’s an engaging series, I’ll give you that. There’s just one problem,” she told him.

Toeing off his shoes, he quirked up his visible eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Most of the suggestive lines are ridiculous. They wouldn’t actually pique anyone’s interest.”

“I think they would,” Kakashi argued.

He thought of all the times he had envisioned himself in the hero’s place. How it would feel to have those loaded words whispered seductively into his own ear as a precursor to further intimacies. Sakura’s voice broke him out of his reverie as she asked, “want to make a bet?”

“About?” he questioned cautiously.

The kunoichi currently had him in a public space wearing only his mask and pants, after all. He startled a bit as he fully became aware of that fact. If Sakura ever figured out just how much power she held over him…

The consequences were worrying to think about, to say the least. “I bet that I can quote lines from the books to you without getting _that_ kind of rise out of you,” she clarified. Her blush made a brief reappearance, much to his enjoyment. “The winner can decide the other’s punishment later.”

His mind wandered a bit at thoughts of Sakura and punishment in conjunction. Unfortunately, because of his distraction he missed what she was saying. “Huh?”

“I said,” she said, exasperated, “give me your hands.”

It was a trap. He knew it was a trap, he just didn’t know _how_ exactly. His genius level IQ seemed to take a nosedive in the pink haired kunoichi’s presence. At his hesitation, she loosened her grip on the artwork that once graced his walls. “Alright! I’ll do what you want, just don’t hurt it.”

“What? You mean like this,” Sakura asked, voice full of false innocence.

Lowering her hand, the bottom corner of the poster dipped dangerously close to the water. Kakashi’s hand jerked forward reflexively, as if it was within his power to stop her without risking irreparable damage to the print. A frightened gasp escaped him, but if Sakura ever mentioned it, he’d swear that it was just her imagination.

Cautiously, he walked out onto the river, focusing chakra into his feet. Careful to not make any sudden movements, he made his way to her. He stopped just within arm length of her. Knowing he would probably regret it, he lifted his hands tentatively out to her.

Sakura gathered both his wrists with the hand not occupied with caring for the _Icha Icha Tactics_ memorabilia. Her hand flared green with medical ninjutsu, and he suddenly couldn’t feel his hands, much less move them. “What did you just do?” he growled.

With a gleeful—in his opinion, it seemed much more malicious—smile, Sakura looked up at him with those big, green eyes of her. “Temporary paralysis. I’ll revert it as soon as you make it to your apartment.”

Kakashi remembered something about the most beautiful things in life also being the most dangerous. He was struck by the truth of that statement as the kunoichi led him back to solid ground. With a confidence born out of her medical profession, she quickly undid his belt and began to remove his pants. While he knew which direction he’d love for this to go, Kakashi seriously doubted that would be the case.

He was left standing there in only his mask and boxers.

Boxers that were decorated with colorful little pugs.

“Cute,” Sakura told him with a grin. “I’m sure that Pakkun approves of your underwear choices.”

She had clearly been resisting the urge to laugh at him, but no longer could. A blush crept its way up to his ears. The silver haired shinobi glared as she strode away with his clothing and poster, peals of laughter following in her wake.

Kakashi finally understood why she ensured that his hands hung uselessly by his side. He wouldn’t be able to form hand signs, which meant that he couldn’t use teleportation jutsu. He would soon feel the mortification that Sakura had when he teased her about the vibrator he’d caught her with, and then some. The only way he would get his hands back in working order—and get more clothing, for that matter—would be to walk back to his apartment.

Much to his horror, he lived on the opposite side of the village. The infamous Copy Nin would have to walk through Konoha with cheery, rainbow colored pugs shielding his favorite anatomy parts. Kakashi was convinced that Sakura might have missed her calling by not joining the Torture and Interrogation Force.

_So this is what being on the receiving end of retribution feels like._

Kakashi had to admit, he wasn’t a big fan.

           


	3. A Regret

 

By the time that she reached the training grounds, Sakura was in a horrendously foul mood. What made her temper even worse was that she hated the fact that she was angry in the first place. It had been a few days since she had forced Kakashi on his walk of shame that had been devoid of the usual benefits. While it had made him adequately uncomfortable, it seemed that the act of retaliation might have backfired on her.

It turned out that the female population of Konoha was rather grateful to Sakura for bullying the renowned Copy Nin into walking through the bustling village nearly naked.

_Very_ grateful.

And, boy, was there plenty to admire about his form. The kunoichi certainly couldn’t blame them for ogling him, but she would have preferred to be the only one doing the ogling. However, this realization wasn’t a particularly welcome one. With frustrated movements, she tossed her bag towards the base of a tree.

Fuming, she stomped off to where Sai and Sasuke stood slightly apart from Naruto. She didn’t think that she could handle the overly exuberant blond’s zest for life right now. Luck seemed to be avoiding her as of late, though. “Hey, Sakura!” he shouted, waving his arms a bit maniacally.

The two dark haired young men beside her merely nodded their greetings, for which she was thankful. After mumbling something that she hoped passed for a salutation, Sakura sat and began to stretch, not wanting to delay for—or think about—the perpetually tardy member that they were waiting on. The medic drowned out incessant chatter as she bent over one splayed leg, relishing the slight burn as she grabbed her toes. She had almost finished her warm-up routine when the jinchuuriki finally said something that caught her ear.

“Kakashi-sensei, is it true that you ran naked through the streets?”

Glancing up, she saw the man in question walking towards them, inappropriate book firmly in hand. “Completely false,” the older shinobi replied cheerfully, never lifting his eyes from _Icha Icha Violence_.

Sakura’s eyes narrowed, confident that he had brought that specific volume on purpose. He was flaunting it, knowing that she had yet to get a copy for herself. “That’s right,” she announced, unable to resist. “The rumors were exaggerated, it was just a leisurely stroll in his boxers.”

Something that sounded suspiciously like snickering came from the direction of Sasuke. While Naruto whined about missing the opportunity to witness such uncharacteristic behavior from their former sensei, they split up into sparring groups. She was glad that she had paired off with Sai. She was far too busy dodging attacks and landing blows of her own against the artist to let her mind wander to the silver-haired bane of her existence.

_Almost_ too busy.

The occasional thought of how Kakashi looked without a shirt—all toned muscle and sleek skin marred by battle scars—managed to creep its way into her subconscious. She blamed it on a certain mission a while back that the two of them had been sent on. Kakashi had been forced to pose as a male stripper, which to this day still provided plenty of fodder for fantasy filled dreams. Sakura regretted that stuffing dollar bills into his G-string hadn’t been required for said mission. Though, she wondered whether or not he still had that particular article of clothing, and if she could convince him to give her a private show… Roughly, the kunoichi shook her head in an effort to drive out the drool worthy thoughts bouncing around in her head.

Redoubling her efforts to focus on the task at hand, she gave Sai her full attention. In between avoiding attacks, she exhausted his arsenal of ink creatures—though the lions managed to get too close for comfort, briefly—with shuriken and the occasional punch or kick. As soon as there was the opportunity to, she struck the ground with a chakra-enhanced fist. The unsteady, trembling earth forced Sai to abandon whatever he had been sketching on a scroll. Using the brief moment of respite to close the distance between them, she was finally close enough to engage him in taijutsu.

The medic always enjoyed the chance to spar with her teammates. None of them went easy on one another. It gave her the opportunity to sharpen her offensive skills while trying to utilize the least amount of chakra as possible, which was good practice for when they were actually out in the field. The amount of energy she poured into patching up these lovable idiots was nothing short of astounding.

When Sai pulled out a kunai, she withdrew her own. The clang of metal striking metal soon filled the air. Sakura began to regret not pulling her hair back before arriving. The sun was beating down mercilessly, and hair began to cling to her damp skin. As she tried to blow strands of pink out of her eyes, she blocked each of Sai’s strikes. Sakura dropped into a crouch, spinning as she used her leg to sweep his feet out from underneath him.

Having anticipated that he would likely jump out of the way before she could make contact, she let loose a barrage of flying kunai towards him before rising. Ignoring the log that the knives struck, she spun immediately. Sakura caught one of Sai’s wrists as he attempted to strike her from behind. Pressing down harshly on a certain spot on his wrist, his hand reflexively released the kunai that it had been clutching. At the same time, she tossed her pale teammate over her shoulder. While he was momentarily stunned and lying on his stomach, she gathered his wrists and ankles as quickly as possible. Leveraging her weight against him, she held him still for the few seconds she needed. With a bit of medical ninjutsu, she interrupted the nerve impulses within his extremities, much like she had done to Kakashi previously.

Standing, the medic surveyed her handiwork with pride. “Would it be permissible to ask if you could return sensation to my hands and feet?” Sai inquired, spitting out a blade of grass. “I concede that you have won.”

After repairing what she had done, Sakura offered a hand to help him up. “Good match, you almost had me there in the beginning,” she acknowledged.

The kunoichi took in his familiar, midriff baring attire, albeit a bit wrinkled now. She decided to look into getting Sai and Ino matching crop tops for the next major holiday that required gift exchanging.

Turning to observe the match between the other three, she saw that Kakashi was having a bit of a rough time against both Naruto and Sasuke. Normally, the Copy Nin wouldn’t break a sweat when facing even multiple attackers. The jinchuuriki and last Uchiha were hardly ordinary, though. She soon grew distracted as she watched Kakashi twist and turn with athletic grace.

His skintight, sleeveless shirt highlighted every contraction and ripple of muscle as he moved. The light sheen of sweat that he had worked up only caused the black material to cling more lovingly to him. She might have suspected him of wearing it on purpose to tease her if he hadn’t worn that particular shirt hundreds of times already during their numerous practices.

She couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the silver haired man as he fought off his opponents. Most shinobi were in peak physical condition, but Kakashi’s defined, well-built form was captivating. If he suddenly found himself in need of a career change, the man could make a killing by posing for artists—nude, of course.

Recognizing the direction of her thoughts, Sakura decided that a prompt retreat was in order. After some hasty excuse to Sai, who had responded with that unnerving smile of his, she headed for her apartment. She used the walk to focus on other things, like the surgery she was scheduled to perform tomorrow and when the best time to pick up a copy of _Icha Icha Violence_ would be.

Nearly two hours later, she opened the bathroom door, releasing warm, humid air into her bedroom. Sakura always tended to take long showers, and the one she took to rinse off the sweat from practice was no exception. It was one of her guilty pleasures, after all. Few things could match the relaxation of luxuriating in the spray of hot water for far longer than necessary, holding conversations with herself and contemplating life. Admittedly, some of her most important decisions had been made this way, surrounded by her pink and green, scented bath products, as steam fogged up the bathroom mirror. So long as her water bill didn’t reach an astronomical price, she saw no reason to stop.

Wrapped in a black robe embroidered with her namesake, Sakura towel-dried her hair before striding over to her dresser. Rummaging through the drawers, she found a black bra and similarly colored panties. Shedding the robe, she quickly pulled on the garments she had just grabbed. On the rare occasions that she managed to have matching underwear on, she always felt accomplished. As having if by having achieved the simplest of things, she could get the rest of her life together just as easily.

Heading over to the closet, Sakura decided that it was as good a time as any to try on some recent purchases. Grabbing a fishnet undershirt, she donned it and went to stand in front of the full-length mirror that hung in the room. Turning this way and that, she concluded that it fit perfectly. The kunoichi had to admit that it looked good on her, even if it was going to be mostly covered while worn. She couldn’t hold back a laugh as she envisioned the reaction she’d get for wearing just her current attire down the streets of Konoha.

Studying her reflection, the skintight material seemed to draw even more attention to her adequate assets than without it. She might not be large by any means in the chest department, but the intriguing crisscross of black cords over her mostly bare skin had a rather pleasing effect. Though, it would probably be wise to avoid wearing the long sleeved undershirt while in Suna. Sakura winced as she imagined the bizarre tan lines that the shirt would leave.

Crossing her arms, she grabbed the hem and began to draw the undershirt over her head.

_Uh-oh._

There was a lesser-known reason that almost all kunoichi wore chest bindings, rather than bras, while on active duty. It was because wardrobe malfunctions in their line of work were a serious concern. The position she found herself in could potentially prove to be deadly in other circumstances. Thankfully, she ran into her dilemma while in the safety of her own apartment. But if Konoha suddenly found itself under attack, it would find itself short one medic.

As she had lifted the fishnet top, the converter hook—to change it into a razorback style—on her bra strap snagged on one of the strings of the shirt. The heavy-duty material was surprisingly strong, the medic discovered as she struggled to free herself to no avail.

_Now I know what fish feel like when they’re caught._

Her encased arms were folded, elbows in the air, above her head. She had a lovely view as she was forced to look through the netting covering her face. The material had almost cleared her shoulders before getting caught. Her chest was now covered by only her bra.

Sakura rolled her eyes. She struggled a bit more, willing to just rip the damn thing at this point if it meant freedom from its confines. However, whoever manufactured shinobi gear apparently did not cut corners. Under other circumstances she would commend them, but currently she felt an overwhelming urge to strangle them. Despite being able to demolish a boulder with a single punch, she had met her match in the recent clothing purchase.

_Wonderful, I’ve been triumphed over by my own clothes._

She seemed to find herself in an especially uncomfortable stress position, the fullest potential of which should be exploited in Konoha’s prisons. If nothing else, these fishnet shirts could be used to more securely handcuff prisoners than whatever else was currently being utilized. It was a good thing that no one was around to—

_Knock-knock._

Dreading what she was sure to find, Sakura slowly turned to face her window. Just as she expected, the devil himself greeted her. A certain Hatake was crouched on her windowsill in all of his masked, smirking glory. If she were able to actually move her arms at all, she would love nothing more than to wipe that amused grin hidden behind his mask, evident by his signature eye crinkle, off his face. Alas, luck once again appeared to have abandoned her.

* * *

 

Kakashi was greeted by a surprising, but definitely not unwelcome, sight when he went to Sakura’s apartment to have some of the mild damage from the earlier training session healed. Opening the window, he gracefully dropped down into her bedroom. The colorful and welcoming feel of her place never seized to please him with its sharp contrast to his own stark apartment. Numerous photos decorated the pale, pink walls. He briefly glanced at his favorite one. In it, Sakura was kissing his cloth covered cheek, the dango that he had purchased for her held aloft.

Focusing on the irritated kunoichi before him, he drolly stated, “I guess I’ve _caught_ you at a bad time?”

“What, has letting yourself into other people’s places suddenly inconvenienced you?”

Deciding to ignore the glaring green eyes that peeked out at him through fishnet—and possibly endanger his life in the process—he replied in an amused tone. “If you wanted to be tied up, I’d have been more than happy to comply with your wish.”

“I’d be more than happy to rearrange that pretty face of yours,” Sakura bit out.

“Ouch,” he stated, dramatically clutching his chest. “I’m hurt, especially after I allowed you the honor of seeing my face all those years ago.”

“I never told the others about that, which should be payment enough. Now get over here and help me!”

Kakashi had to hold back a chuckle as he strolled towards Sakura. She might be trussed up, but not in a way that was conducive to seduction. More like a turkey wrapped in butcher’s twine that had to be removed before going in the oven, rather than a lover ready for a playful romp. Still, he had to admit that he enjoyed the picture she presented.

Like the true gentleman he was, the sliver haired shinobi resisted the urge to look at her exposed skin. Alright, so it was a short-lived experiment in self-restraint. Who was he kidding? His resolve didn’t even last two seconds before he let his gaze roam over her breasts, which were nearly spilling out of her bra due to the awkward position the medic was in. He stole peeks at her toned abdomen and muscular legs that seemed to go on forever, clad only in a pair of lace trimmed panties. Then his gaze went right back to her cleavage. He had never claimed to be a saint, after all.

Maybe he should suggest that Sakura should wear only black more often? “Since when has leering become an acceptable form of help?” the kunoichi growled.

The Copy Nin gulped. “Right, one second.”

Taking ahold of her shoulders, he spun Sakura around. Quickly assessing the problem, he unhooked the section of the shirt that had gotten caught on her bra. Grasping the top of the shirt, he yanked it over her head, freeing the kunoichi from its embrace. Brushing aside the ridiculous notion of being jealous of clothing, he watched as she snatched her robe off the floor and hastily tossed it on.

“So,” she asked, tying the belt of her silky robe, “why did you stop by?”

“I was wondering if you could heal some scratches I got earlier.”

“Sure, you know the drill.”

Exiting her bedroom, he made his way to the living room. Passing by the crate of dog toys that she kept for when his pack visited, he sank down onto her grey couch, sitting between a red and a pink pillow. Sakura followed him, sitting beside him. It was clear that she had just taken a shower. Discreetly, he breathed in the scent of her shampoo, with its floral notes and a hint of fresh mint underneath. He’d always loved the way it smelled, so delicate and seemingly at odds with the harsh reality of a kunoichi’s way of life. Her wet hair, a darker shade of pink than when dry, framed her face. He found himself transfixed by the strand that was wrapped around her throat, clinging to her skin.

“Pull up your shirt,” Sakura ordered, breaking his concentration.

Carefully, he pulled up the left side of his shirt, revealing the discoloration and shallow cuts that he knew were there. The injuries were minor, to say the least, but he’d prefer to be in fully working order in case he was called out on a mission suddenly. Favoring his left side could potentially get him killed in a fight.

Gently, the medic skimmed her fingers over the damaged area. Looking at what she was doing, Kakashi saw the green flare of chakra around her hand. “Well, you don’t have any internal injuries or fractures on your ribs,” she told him.

“Oh, good,” he replied dryly. “I thought that I might be dying. I like to think fondly of the days when none of you could land a single blow on me, but—” Kakashi abruptly stopped his jabbering when she stabbed a finger roughly into his bruised flesh. A slight hiss escaped past his clenched teeth. “You give new meaning to the term ‘tough love’,” he muttered sourly.

“You’ve had me pull kunai out of you without so much as a wince. Stop complaining, it will destroy that hardened reputation of yours,” Sakura retorted.

She held her glowing hand over the area again. That familiar itchy sensation greeted him as his skin began to mend. The cuts disappeared without a trace as the edges of torn skin knitted back together. The bruises took a bit longer, but vanished without a trace as well. “Better than ever,” he announced as he pressed his own finger against the site. 

Lowering his shirt, he glanced up and was struck by a bit of concern for himself. Sakura had that glint in her eyes, the one that promised danger to the recipient. “I went to see a doctor today about some aches I’ve been having,” she practically purred. A thrill ran through him at the words he knew so well, even as he eagerly anticipated what he knew was to come. “Turns out that I’m missing an organ.”

Tamping down on his excitement, he raised his visible eyebrow. “Oh? Which one would that be?” he continued as calmly as possible.

Sakura had once told him how envious she was at how Hinata and Ino both blushed prettily. She lamented that her blushes were more of a bright red flush that covered her whole face. Personally, Kakashi had always found this particular trait of hers endearing. In more recent times, it led to thoughts of where else the flush might spread. Now was no exception.

Color crept into her face—which he found all too becoming—as the kunoichi let her gaze dip to just below his belt. “Yours,” she finished, the direction of her regard not leaving any possibility of misunderstanding.

God, he loved Jiraiya’s books.

Kakashi clapped. “Very nice portrayal,” he complimented brightly.

Sakura met his eyes, her own alight with mirth. She snickered a bit. “Well, that line was about as subtle as Naruto.”

He winced. “Could you please not bring him up? I’d rather not have thoughts of that blond terror invade and ruin this pleasurable experience. It’s a wonderful image that you present as you further your descent into an undying love for the _Icha Icha_ series.”

The pink haired medic stood up, laughing. The hearty, lighthearted sound of it was music to his ears. “I think you mean my descent into corruption,” she told him.

“Please, you’re enjoying this bet as much as I am,” he chided.

They had agreed that it was only fair if he could recite lines to her as well. To say that he was looking forward to his opportunity to do so would be an understatement. The next day, however, had him rethinking his feelings about the bet.

Strolling through a nearly deserted, tree-shaded street, Kakashi caught sight of Sakura sitting at a bench. She was staring vacantly, a look he knew occurred when a particularly draining mission or round at the hospital had taken place. He always hated seeing her like that.

“Rough day?” he asked as he sat down next to her.

She jerked to look at him, as if she hadn’t noticed his presence until he spoke. The medic gave him an empty smile as she told him, “I’ve had better.”

Though her words had been perfectly innocent, his were anything but. “But you haven’t had me, yet.”

“Shut up!” she laughingly demanded, genuine humor softening her features.

With a cocky grin mostly hidden behind his mask, he responded with, “make me.”

A devious glimmer appeared in her eyes. He swallowed thickly, mildly concerned. Maybe he should have thought carefully before challenging the kunoichi sitting beside him. Her eyes locked onto his as she leaned towards him slowly, until her chest was flush with his own. He tensed, refusing to act on the warmth that flooded his body at the soft feel of her pressed against him.

If he had been thinking with his head—not the one decidedly further down south that had an issue with logic—he would have realized just how dangerous of a situation he had placed himself into. Her gaze shifted to his mouth. Sakura came closer, her lips nearly to his own. Kakashi’s breath hitched. He’d been longing for this moment for so—

Her lips met his ear instead. A slight shudder ran through him as her warm breath caressed his skin. “I just did,” she whispered silkily.

She left then, a blur of pink and red, leaving a quivering mess of a Copy Nin behind. He groaned as his head fell back with a _thunk_ against the tree behind the bench. He had copied a thousand jutsus. His name struck fear into the hearts of enemies across the nations. Yet here he was, utterly undone by a deceptively innocent looking medic-nin murmuring into his ear.

He glanced down at himself before fruitlessly tugging his flak vest lower. They hadn’t even done anything, but he couldn’t get up for fear that someone would notice his…condition. He tactfully placed his ever-present volume of _Icha Icha Paradise_ over his lap.

From the start, he had felt as though he would quickly grow to regret accepting Sakura’s challenge to their bet. It was rapidly proving to be a test of endurance for an all too addictive form of torture. Hell, he didn’t know if he would survive what was to come with his questionable sanity intact.

However, he couldn’t pretend that his interest in the pink haired kunoichi was solely due to the bet anymore. He couldn’t even claim that his current predicament was courtesy of some quoted, racy lines from his favorite books. She hadn’t done anything just now that was within the pages of _Icha Icha_.

He had entered this bet fully expecting to not lose. Kakashi had never expected that he would be in danger of losing his heart in the process.

           

 

           

           

           

           

           

           


	4. A Mission

It was early morning as Sakura walked to Lucky’s Adult Emporium for the second time, distinctive hair hidden by her hoodie. Taking a deep, bracing breath did little to alleviate the slight jitteriness and self-consciousness that bounced around within her. She opened the door cautiously, as if merely stepping foot into the store would conjure up the frustrating man plaguing her thoughts.  

Seriously, it was as if Kakashi had an alert system that went off every single time she found herself in an awkward situation. Situations that he just _had_ to show up and bear witness to. Like a few days ago, when she had effectively tangled herself up in her own shirt, and the Copy Nin just so happened to be hanging out on her windowsill. Pretty soon she’d have to fine him for loitering.

Heat entered her cheeks, but it wasn’t due to the graphic covers of the…recreational DVDs that she found herself surrounded by. It wasn’t even the fact that Kakashi had caught her in practically just her underwear. After all, she was the only female on her team, which was the case for most kunoichi. Actually, the female shinobi regularly got together as a support group of sorts to vent about certain struggles that their male colleagues couldn’t relate to. More often than not, these gatherings involved copious amounts of alcohol.

She had seen all of her male teammates in various states of undress, and vice versa. Modesty was something that a shinobi could ill afford. As a result, she had the unfortunate first hand knowledge that Sai was indeed incredibly pale all over. Then there had been the incident in her more tender years in which she had glimpsed Naruto stripped completely bare...she had nearly bleached her eyes in order to get over that horror. Additionally, her role as a medical professional had left her jaded to something as trivial as nudity. She’d administered too many injections in patients’ butts, along with performing more _invasive_ exams, to be shy about the human body.

No, her embarrassment was all thanks to Kakashi consistently catching her at moments that she would prefer not a single soul knew about. Being held captive by her own clothing, for example.

Faking a nonchalance that she didn’t feel, she pretended to browse through the discs. Sakura couldn’t help but wince when she came across the description of “erotic rendition of beloved children’s stories” on a case. Some things were best left alone. Discreetly brushing the hand that had touched the DVD in question against her pants, as if she could wipe away the memory of that particular disc’s existence, she glanced around.

The medic avoided eye contact with the young man that was rummaging through a clearance bin of porn. Green eyes narrowing, she realized that he looked suspiciously like the same guy that had been picking out _movies_ the last time she had visited Lucky’s. She hated to think about the kind of strain his hand and wrist went through, if his shopping habits were any indication…

She wasn’t in any position to judge, though. Casually strolling, or at least attempting to, she moved towards the garment section. Sakura had decided that it would be easier to buy Jiraiya’s second book here, rather than at her preferred bookstore. The thought of buying any of the _Icha Icha_ series from the elderly proprietor made her cringe. She would rest better knowing that the kindly old man was unaware of her recent reading habits.

Fighting the urge to glare at the fishnet stockings after her newfound aversion to the material, she headed over to where the books were kept. At least, that was her plan before something caught her eye. Something that would cause Kakashi to run the risk of dehydration from drooling too much.

Lucky had apparently decided that their store would benefit from an _Icha Icha_ section. Life-sized cutouts of the main characters stared back at the medic. The artistic rendering of Himitsu, the heroine of the first book, seemed to defy all realistic body proportions. Ignoring the urge to glance down at her own—significantly smaller—chest, Sakura focused on the merchandise in front of her.

There were various shirts, none of which had any scenes plastered on the front, thankfully. Konoha’s streets were family friendly, after all. Picking up a green tank top, she saw that it had been made to look like the cover of _Icha Icha Tactics_. She set it down next to a shirt proclaiming that the wearer was in a dedicated relationship with the hero of the series. She passed by the matching couple’s t-shirts. While she might be a closet fan of the adult book series, Sakura couldn’t see herself publicly declaring it with articles of clothing, let alone in conjunction with someone else. She wouldn’t be able to live down the embarrassment.

She quickly decided to pass on the official vibrator of the _Icha Icha_ series. It brought the author to mind, and the mental image of Jiraiya immediately killed any desire to purchase, let alone use the toy. The kunoichi shuddered in a combination of horror and disgust. Shaking off the feeling, she was excited to discover novelty boxers. The fabric featured characters from the series hiding amongst lines from the books.

Despite her current disgruntlement with him, the medic couldn’t pass up the opportunity to purchase the perfect gift for Kakashi. He was one of her closest friends, after all, though she didn’t want to consider what that said about her. Besides, by the time that she gave it to him, she wouldn’t constantly be torn between wanting to drag him into bed or strangle him.

Probably.

Boxers tucked under her arm, she found the actual books. Her eyes scanned the shelf, but couldn’t find the red cover that she was searching for. Sakura pulled out a few volumes, thinking that there might be some tucked behind the others. No luck. Mildly frustrated, she made a beeline for the main book section in the store.

Sakura’s sudden arrival appeared to startle the middle-aged woman already there, a large stack of books cradled in her arms. The medic smiled apologetically before deciding to ignore the woman. No reason to make either of them any more uncomfortable. Gaze skimming over works by authors far more dubious than Jiraiya, she found the _Icha Icha_ portion of the bookcases. With rising irritation, she fervidly searched for _Icha Icha_ _Violence_. When she found herself empty-handed, an irksome thought struck her.

_Oh, he better not have._

Lips flattening in annoyance, the kunoichi willed her legendary temper to stay in check. She glared at the boxers she was carrying. If what she assumed was true, then she planned on forcing the Copy Nin to take another jaunt down the main street while he wore only them. If the universe decided to smile down upon her, he would be arrested for public indecency that time around.

She roughly shoved aside the thought that the true indecency was Kakashi hiding his body underneath clothes all the time. With determined steps, she strode over to the checkout counter. Slapping the boxers down onto the counter—it was probably best to take her frustration out on inanimate objects rather than people—the medic forced a smile, though it likely came out as more of a grimace.  

The blond cashier was the same woman from Sakura’s last visit, this time with bright purple eyeshadow. After the fiasco that took place the first time, the kunoichi wasn’t sure if she was relieved or mortified that the cashier recognized her. At least she wouldn’t be carded…

“You wouldn’t happen to have any more _Icha Icha Violence_ copies in stock, would you?” Sakura asked as sweetly as possible, hoping her tone didn’t sound as false as it truly was.

The woman shook her head as she rang up the purchase. “Your friend with the mask came by and bought them all.”

Fists clenching until her knuckles were white, Sakura struggled to keep her voice even as she said, “thanks, just wondering.”

_I’m really going to kill him this time. I’m going to shatter every finger in his hand, then strangle—_

“Here you go,” the employee told the kunoichi as she handed over the bagged item, interrupting Sakura’s homicidal train of thought.

Biting out her thanks, she furiously barged out of Lucky’s, a sense of déjà vu settling over her. Shoving the bag into the oversized pocket on the front of her hoodie, she made her way to Kakashi’s apartment.

By the time that she made it to his windowsill, she was relieved that Mrs. Ito wasn’t at home next door. While she adored the elderly woman, Sakura felt her patience reach its limits. She would hate to unintentionally snap at the charming woman.

Shifting the window open, she entered and allowed the framed pane to slam shut behind her. Storming into the living room, she stopped in front of the silver haired shinobi that was lounging on the couch. Her sudden entrance caused him to pause in his reading and look at her.

“Hello, Kakashi,” she greeted, a dangerous edge to her voice.

The greatly renowned Copy Nin gulped.

Audibly.

* * *

 

Kakashi had been enjoying a relaxing day between missions, indulging in rereading his favorite scenes written by Jirayia. All of that had come to a crashing halt with Sakura’s appearance. Unfortunately, judging by the wrath radiating off of her, _he_ might end up literally crashing. He just hoped that it wouldn’t be through a wall.

Sakura’s tone, combined with the frightening glint in her eyes, made him rather concerned about the future of his wellbeing. Call him a glutton for punishment, but he couldn’t deny the slight thrill he felt upon seeing her. Anger had always resulted in such a delightful flush on her face. And, he had to admit, the sight of her tightly clenched fists resting on her shapely hips certainly appealed to him.

Raising an eyebrow innocently, he swung his legs over to the floor before standing. He had no idea that the fluid grace of his movement simply inflamed the ire of the kunoichi even more. “You,” she began heatedly, pointing a finger in his direction. “ _You_ , are the sole reason that I’m hooked on those ridiculous books.” She gestured wildly at the orange book in his hands. Kakashi clutched the precious volume closer to his chest, concerned that she might threaten to damage it like she had to his poster. “You blatantly read them in inappropriate, public settings, yet deny me the ability to read them in the privacy of my own home?” she finished, voice raising indignantly on the last few words.

Maybe his judgment had been impaired when he decided to purchase all of the books from Lucky’s that Sakura had been looking for. He had known from the start that she wouldn’t dare buy the volume from the quaint little bookstore she liked to frequent. Therefore, he had known that his current predicament was sure to occur. Then again, due to his career choice, it was clear that he craved the high that came from living dangerously. Spending time with Sakura—not to mention purposely antagonizing her—yielded the same, addictive effects.

Grabbing the back of his neck nervously, he replied with, “huh, I’m afraid that I don’t understand what you mean.”

His heart rate sped up at the sight of her narrowed, green eyes glaring back at him. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else that caused the sudden spike in his pulse. He followed her gaze as it shifted to the right of the couch.

_Oops._

Forty-two books with red covers that he had painstakingly stacked yesterday still graced his living room. He probably should have moved them somewhere less conspicuous. Sakura’s voice caused him to snap his attention back to her. “Unbelievable,” she announced, rolling her eyes, “you won’t pay for your own meals, but you’re willing to shell out a small fortune for more copies of _Icha Icha Violence_ than even you could possibly need? I think you need to reevaluate your priorities, Kakashi.”

The silver haired shinobi took it as a good sign that her tone had softened a bit. He ignored the odd warmth that filled him when she said his name with that faintly teasing tone. “I decided to shop for gifts early this year.”

And just like the spark that set off a firework, his droll comment lit her frustration anew. A tapping at the window saved him, stopping the kunoichi as soon as her mouth had opened, ready to unleash a new tirade upon him. Making his way to his bedroom, he was greeted by a messenger bird just outside the glass. Sliding the window up, he took the summons from its avian carrier. “What is it?” Sakura asked from where she leaned against the doorframe.

Looking up from the missive, it struck him how colorful the medic was in comparison to her surroundings of the flat’s monotonous, white interior. She breathed life into his barren apartment. He told her, “seems that I have a mission.”

About an hour later—he felt that his record time was worthy of some sort of acknowledgment—Kakashi found himself on the road leading out of Konoha. He hadn’t been expecting Sakura to be walking alongside him, but it was pleasant surprise. What had originally been a solo mission for him had been changed at the last second to include the pink-haired kunoichi. According to Tsunade, it was because he had the tendency to wind up in the hospital for lengthy stays when Sakura wasn’t with him. That, and her prized apprentice had grown antsy lately from only having rounds in the hospital.

It would be easy to believe that all was right with the world. The sky was a lovely blue, devoid of clouds, and the sun wasn’t beating down on them. An occasional breeze rustled the trees that shaded the road. The singing birds and normal sounds of the forest assured him that danger wasn’t lurking nearby, but that didn’t mean that he planned to drop his guard. “So,” he began, wanting to chat. Sakura was one of the rare, if not only, people that could inspire that urge in him. “How has the—“

“No.”

Faintly startled at the abrupt interruption, he peered at the kunoichi. Usually she loved to hold conversations while traveling at an easy pace. However, her face seemed to be buried in a volume of _Icha Icha Violence_ —likely one that she had filched from his apartment. Though, having over forty copies of the novel was excessive, even for him. Contrary to his earlier statement, Jiraiya’s books were surprisingly difficult to give as gifts. Few of his companions held an appreciation for the works of art. He was sure that Genma would enjoy a copy, but that still left forty volumes occupying space in his apartment. Kakashi decided that upon his return to Konoha he would review the return policy for Lucky’s. Hopefully he had kept the receipt…

He decided to try again. “So, is there anything—“

“You’re doing it again,” Sakura told him, annoyance coloring her tone.

Genuinely confused, he asked, “doing what?”

“Interrupting my reading.” 

She had never once moved her eyes from the pages steadily being turned. _He_ was the reclusive, misanthropic one, not the medic with adorable pink hair and a heart-melting smile. Call him a hypocrite, but he found himself slightly annoyed at the reversal of their roles. Kakashi should have been the one delving into smutty novels, purposely ignoring others’ attempts at conversation, not Sakura. He let his lower lip jut forward to match his rather petulant mood. She’d never notice, any—

“Stop pouting, it’s distracting,” came her stern order.

His head slumped a bit in defeat, his lip returning to its previous position. “Fine,” he retorted, “I’ll just hold private discussions in my head. I don’t need your participation, since I’m clearly the superior conversationalist.”

He mumbled the last part, hoping that she wouldn’t hit him in retaliation. Apparently the kunoichi was too engrossed in the book to care. Now he just needed something to think about as he scanned their surroundings. Unfortunately, the only thing that his mind seemed to focus on was the cozy little scene he had witnessed prior to the departure for the mission.

He had come across Sakura giving Yamato a gift-wrapped bag of the man’s favorite roasted walnuts for seemingly no reason. She had handed them over with a smile, and the two of them had laughed over a comment that the Copy Nin had been unable to overhear. Kakashi frowned, thinking of the affectionate way that the medic had touched the dark-haired shinobi’s arm. He had intruded at that moment, claiming that Sakura had to head out with him immediately on the mission. He chalked up the uneasy feeling resting in the pit of his stomach to the fact that his colleague might be trying to take advantage of the precious kunoichi. 

_Looks like I might have to put the fear of god in Yamato soon_ , he thought, darkly excited by the prospect of roughing up the other shinobi.

Maybe he’d invite Naruto and Sasuke along for that little venture. Sakura was Team Seven’s darling kunoichi, after all. The fact that she could bench-press all of her teammates at once without breaking a sweat didn’t change that. On second thought, maybe the three of them could dissuade her from dating at all. No one would ever be good enough for her, at least in their opinions. Hence why the trio, and Sai on occasion, had…not so gently persuaded all but the staunchest of potential suitors away from her. The few that continued their pursuit of Sakura eventually experienced rougher deterrent tactics. Naruto was the only one lacking the subtlety necessary to not get caught by her.

Still, what did the medic see in the wood style shinobi, anyway? The calm—yet long-suffering and perpetually exasperated—demeanor of the man was no match for Sakura’s passionate personality. It was also clear that Kakashi had superior taste to the other shinobi, based on their reading choices alone. Yamato preferred enjoying books about architecture to indulging in the artistic mastery of the _Icha Icha_ series, for crying out loud.

_Why am I thinking about any of this in the first place?_ Kakashi silently questioned himself.

He was on a mission, and therefore had far more important things to dwell on, like ensuring that he and Sakura returned to Konoha alive. Besides, the medic’s dating habits shouldn’t concern—

“Kashi?”

Sakura’s voice broke through his internal deliberation. She had picked up the absentminded habit of calling him that a few years back, only doing so when she was preoccupied with something. It always managed to bring a hidden smile to life underneath his mask.

So, she preferred his company to Jiraiya’s fictional characters after all. With carefully concealed glee, he turned towards her—

_Never mind, guess I’m still second rate._

His mood dropped when he realized that Sakura had deigned to talk with him merely because she had finished with the novel. “Yeah?” he responded, taking care to mask any disappointment.

“We’re nearing the area that the target was last spotted. Should we depart from the road?”

He nodded his approval, and they veered off towards the trees.

* * *

 

It hadn’t taken them long to locate their target. Tsunade had gotten word that a missing-nin had been sighted relatively nearby and wanted him brought back to Konoha for questioning. From Sakura’s hidden position it looked as though the defector hadn’t spent any time at civilized settlements for a while. Or concerned himself with hygiene for that matter.

The kunoichi watched as their previously devised plan was set into motion. While she concealed her chakra signature and crouched amongst the branches of a tree, Kakashi attempted to make a new friend. Thankfully, the pair fully expected that tactic to fail and had planned accordingly.

“You wouldn’t happen to have the time, would you?” her teammate asked as he wandered into the clearing that the fugitive had made camp in.

She rolled her eyes when she saw that he was pretending to read _Icha Icha Paradise_ in an effort to look less threatening. Then again, knowing him, he probably wasn’t pretending. She was convinced that Kakashi was at his most powerful when he had risqué literature in hand, especially if his opponent threatened the safety of his beloved books. “Who the hell are you?” the missing-nin asked brusquely, holding out a kunai defensively.

“Well,” her silver-haired companion explained, shutting his book, “my team has been tasked with bringing you in for questioning. If you’re cooperative, they might not even use some of the…messier interrogation tactics.”

“What, don’t tell me that you’re the muscle of the team,” the criminal scoffed as he looked at the lean form of the shinobi before him.

Granted, Kakashi was all muscle. Not the bulky kind derived from simply weightlifting, but the wiry type developed from years of honing every inch of himself into an agile, killing machine. His loose fitting pants and the boxy cut of his flak vest hid much of his muscular frame. Combined with his seemingly lazy gaze, she had to admit that he didn’t cut the most intimidating figure unless the enemy recognized who he was. The burly rouge shinobi, with his ragged clothing and ambiguously colored hair—it might have been brown, or blond strands that hadn’t been washed in a long time—did not seem impressed by the Copy Nin’s outward appearance.

“No,” Sakura announced. She dropped down from her foliage filled hiding spot, tugging on her leather gloves. The kunoichi snapped the cuffs against her forearms, feeling like the resulting sound and dramatic pause heightened the tension in the camp. She hadn’t spent years working with Konoha’s group of most melodramatic shinobi without picking up a few tricks, after all. “That would be me.”

Striding closer to the criminal, she tried to look as menacing as someone with below average height and pink hair could. While those who knew her—and her equally monstrous strength—would be trembling in fear at the vicious look in her eyes, the rouge ninja merely laughed. She struck the ground, creating a deep crack in the earth that sped towards him as dirt and his camping equipment went flying. Sakura felt a perverse pleasure at the alarmed expression that showed up on the man’s face.

Kakashi had wisely stepped out of the immediate vicinity as soon as she had revealed her presence, anticipating the ground being split. She rushed to engage the missing-nin before his shock had worn off. His significantly larger physique meant that she had the advantage when it came to speed. She used that to her advantage, easily dodging hits while landing one of her own. The chakra-enhanced fist that she had struck his side with seemed to have broken some of his ribs. Unlike most opponents, though, this apparently didn’t deter the defector. He charged head first at her, hunched over and enraged.

Sakura easily used his larger mass and momentum against him. Turning slightly, she grabbed one of his arms and threw her free arm around his neck, grasping his shoulder. Spinning further around, she leaned forward, forcing his feet off the ground. With a tug on his arm, she sent him off her back and rolled him off her hip. He hit the forest floor with a satisfying thud. Everything had occurred in a matter of seconds.

“Hanzai Teki,” she announced as green chakra flared forth from her hand, “you are now being taken into custody.”

She pressed her fingers to his temple, causing him to fall into a state of unconsciousness that only a skilled medical-nin could rouse him from. Satisfaction settled within her.

_Just another successful day’s work._

* * *

 

Kakashi made his way back to where his favorite medic had knocked out the lumbering beast of a rouge shinobi. He knew that Sakura had been missing the rush of battle, since she normally had to avoid engaging in combat to serve as a medic. So, he had given her full rein when it came to the mission’s objective of recovering the target. He would have been by her side in an instant if she had needed any help, but he knew that she was fully capable of dealing with matters by herself. In fact, she handled things much more smoothly than he could have. The application of medical ninjutsu outside of healing was truly incredible.

“All done?” he asked, stepping out from the thicket of trees.

Sakura turned to face him, cheerfully claiming, “thanks for letting me have all the fun.”

He found himself unable to look away when he saw her jubilant smile and faint flush of exertion. Taking down hardened enemies twice her size had always lightened her mood and given her a breathtaking glow. He cleared his throat, forcing his mouth to form words. “Of course, you were better suited to this, anyway. Much cleaner to induce a coma than to beat him into submission.”

She grabbed Teki then, tossing him over her shoulder. The man’s powerful biceps alone looked heavier than she did, yet she hefted him up as if the man weighed nothing. Kakashi quickly whipped out his favorite novel and hid his slight blush behind its pages.

_Don’t you dare swoon, you’ll never live it down!_

After his silent, self-directed command, he chanced a glance back at Sakura. The incongruous sight of the deceptively delicate looking kunoichi effortlessly carrying the criminal that could have easily been a prizefighter was amusing to say the least. As he felt blood rush down in a southern direction, the Copy Nin had to admit that he found it a bit arousing as well.

Trying to will the evidence away, he focused on unpleasant mental images, like Naruto voraciously consuming ramen. The mold that had once taken over his fridge after a long mission, since he had forgotten to remove his groceries before leaving. His precious _Icha Icha_ volumes being burned.

By the time that he had gotten himself under control, Sakura had already started to head back to the road. “Coming?” she called over her shoulder, “we still need to deliver this package.”

It probably wasn’t the best time to continue with their bet while she was lugging around an unconscious, drooling missing-nin, but he couldn’t resist. “I seem to have acquired a minor injury just below my belt,” he leeringly recited. “Could you kiss it better?”

“I can let him kiss it better,” she replied, smacking Teki’s back.

Faking a look of horror—it wasn’t difficult to do—resulted in her laughing. “How cruel,” he grumbled. “I should have known that you had a thing for cruel and unusual punishment.”

The peals of her laughter that rang out once more were like music to his ears. Apparently, he was the only one that heard their lyrical quality. Most people, at least those lacking the concept of what it meant to be polite, claimed that her laugh was a cross between a donkey’s bray and a shrieking ghost. Kakashi thought that it was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.

Since the pair had not travelled far from Konoha’s gates, it didn’t take long for them to return and deposit the missing-nin into the care of his new captors. Their debriefing with Tsunade was brief, as well. It was as they were leaving the tower that Sakura, being the crafty kunoichi that she was, struck.

Kakashi found himself abruptly pushed against the wall of the hallway, his wrists pinned to the cool surface by her grasp. The kunoichi leaned in close, her pink hair tickling what little skin was exposed by his mask. He found himself longing to yank the fabric down in order to experience more of the heady sensation. The alluring fragrance of her was nearly drugging. With a breathy whisper in his ear, she asked, “is that a kunai in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

He silently thanked whatever deities were listening that Sakura wasn’t looking directly at him. Kakashi was not sure what he would do if he were to gaze into those captivating green eyes of hers.

_Think! How do you get out of this situation?_

Frantically trying to devise an exit strategy, one that wouldn’t result in utter embarrassment, the silver-haired shinobi decided to ignore everything else. Like how they were in a rather _friendly_ position while in a public building that had quite a bit of foot traffic. Or, more importantly, how one of her legs was dangerously close to slipping between his.

Inspiration struck. “Jiraiya really should have gone with a katana, instead. You know, for flattery purposes.”

He hoped that his light, teasing tone was convincing. Judging by the giggle that escaped Sakura, it had been. “I told you,” she said, stepping away, “some of the lines he wrote are ridiculous.”

“Very,” he agreed aloud. _Ridiculous in what they’re doing to my ability to be sane,_ he furiously thought.

While Kakashi was still recovering the scattered pieces of his composure, she delivered her finishing blow. “By the way,” she started. Sakura was using that sweet tone that instantly made him wary. “I promised Mrs. Ito that you would attend the knitting club meeting being held tomorrow.”

The medic—the cruel, sadistic medic—then turned away and left with a bounce in her step, taking what little of his sanity that he had left with her.

 

           

           

 

 

 

 

           

 

 

 

           


	5. A Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm currently working on the ninth and final chapter. Hope you enjoy this one in the meantime, so let me know what you think. Thanks!

Sakura frantically searched the cabinet in her bathroom. She shoved aside extra bottles of shampoo, looking behind them. When that proved fruitless, she grabbed her seldom-used curling iron and makeup bag.  Nothing had been hiding on the shelf with them, so she furiously unzipped the bag, nearly breaking the zipper in the process. Kneeling on the floor, she dumped out the contents onto the tile below. Brushes and compacts clattered, the sound echoing in the bathroom.

She winced, but didn’t find what she needed. Ignoring the mess in the once pristine room, she rummaged through the rest of the cabinet. A box of bandages fell to the floor in her haste. “No, no, no! This is not good!”

The medic should have known by now to stock up before leaving Konoha. How did she always manage to run out as soon as she came back from a mission, too tired to run to the store before heading home?

_Knock-knock._

Racing towards her bedroom window, she abandoned the clutter left behind. Sliding the pane up for Kakashi, she nearly shattered the glass with her hurried movements. “Yo,” he greeted as he entered, “I come bearing gifts.”

As he spoke, he reached into the bag he was carrying, pulling out a box of pads and dropping the package into her hands. Hugging the box, Sakura ran back to the bathroom. “You’re the best!” she declared before slamming the door shut. Tearing open the cardboard, she grabbed a pad and unwrapped it. Yanking off the wrapping to reveal the adhesive side, she tugged down her clothing. Full of relief, she placed the pad inside her underwear. “Did you—” she began to call out.

“Tampons are right outside the door,” Kakashi answered, anticipating her question.

Appreciation and warmth welled up within her.

_How did I ever get so lucky?_

After righting her clothes, she opened the door and grabbed the box of her preferred tampon brand sitting in front of her and put them away in the cabinet. Returning to where Kakashi slouched against a wall, she said, “you have my undying gratitude, but I do have a question. How did you manage to afford those after spending your entire life’s savings on fifty copies of  _Icha Icha Violence_?”

“Oh, you know, I had to sell a kidney,” he joked, clutching his side, “ _and_  agree to work night shifts at Lucky’s for next twenty years. But it was nothing, not for my favorite medic.”

Sakura rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her smile. As they headed to the living room, she gently squeezed his bicep to show her gratitude. The fact that she internally fawned over his muscular form was something best left unexplored. “Well, my self-destructive uterus and I thank you for your gracious kidney donation.”

The fact that the renowned Copy Nin was completely unfazed by a normal bodily process—unlike most males, civilian and shinobi alike—was simply another reason that she adored him. Hell, this wasn’t even the first time that he’d shown up with feminine hygiene products right when she needed them. She had never asked how he knew, nor did she particularly want that answer.

“So, what are we watching this time?” she asked.

He whipped a DVD case out of his bag, something akin to glee glinting in his uncovered eye. “I finally have someone to watch the cinematic  _Icha Icha_  collection with, and I’m not about to let that opportunity go to waste.”

Sakura glanced dubiously at the disc he held almost reverently. While she was forced to admit a certain fondness for Jiraiya’s books—alright, she was in love with them—watching the movies was something she was hesitant to do. It felt as if it would be venturing past the point of no return, where she would have to acknowledge the same obsession that Kakashi did. Still, she couldn’t deny curiosity at how well the film portrayed the books…

“Fine,” she conceded, taking the bag from him.

She headed into the kitchen to make the popcorn that she knew he had brought. Movie night had been a ritual for the two of them for a few years now. The night after returning from a mission, they would converge in the kunoichi’s living room to broaden their cinematic horizons and giggle over late night conversations. Amusingly—or maybe sadly—most of the giggling did not originate from Sakura. In short, their movie nights were a way to unwind from the stress of missions, and a thinly veiled excuse for two elite shinobi to have a sleepover in the most innocent sense of the word.

Tearing open the packaging on the popcorn, she tossed a bag into the microwave to heat it up. While the salty goodness was being prepared, she ducked down to search through a cabinet. While she grabbed a bowl, she heard Kakashi in the other room as he started up the DVD player. “Am I going to enjoy your movie selection?” she called out over the sound of kernels popping.

“Of course, it’s won numerous awards.”

“Hm.”

Sakura’s skepticism continued as she made another bag of popcorn before dumping it all into the bowl. Carrying the dish into the living room, she saw that Kakashi was doing what he did best—treating her apartment as if it were his own. He’d settled down on the right side of the couch, arm stretched out across the back of it. The title screen was up on the TV, and she was already disappointed by the portrayal of the characters. The actress playing Himitsu, the heroine, had dark hair. In the books, she was blonde—Jirayia had never been subtle about the inspiration for his characters, after all.

She sat to the left of Kakashi, setting the bowl down in his lap while she pulled a blanket across her own. While he started the movie, she reclaimed the snacks. “This better be as good as the books,” she muttered as the opening strains of music played.

“Every single line comes straight from the novel,” he replied noncommittally, quickly grabbing a few pieces of popcorn.

Sakura should have known right then that she was bound to be disappointed. The Copy Nin’s lackluster comment and the fact that books were nearly always superior to their cinematic versions should have tipped her off. However, nothing would have properly prepared her for the upcoming disaster.

“This is terrible!” she declared.

Sakura looked over to see her companion silently quote the movie.

Word for word.

She threw a piece of popcorn at Kakashi, hoping to hit him in the head. Without ever looking in her direction, he caught it midair before slipping it underneath his mask to munch on.

_Damn shinobi skills,_ she internally fumed.

“Kashi,” she began again, “the backdrops are painted sheets. It was windy where ever they filmed the movie. I know this because the backdrop just moved with the breeze!”

“It was a low budget film,” he admitted. She stared at him expectantly until he gave her a chagrined eye wrinkle. “Very low budget,” he finished.

“That’s no excuse for bad acting,” she grumbled as she nestled closer to him.

Tucked against his side, she rested her head on his shoulder, soaking up his warmth. She was grateful that Kakashi radiated body heat like a furnace. Her pajamas weren’t warding off the chill in the air very well, despite the long sleeves and full-length pants. She had a collection of various stolen clothing items from her teammates—old shirts and pants that they had outgrown—that she wore to bed. All of Naruto and Sasuke’s  _contributions_  had mysteriously disappeared over time, until only Kakashi’s shirts were left behind. The spendthrift didn’t seem to particularly mind that she wore apparel filched from him.

The man in question drew the blanket more fully around her. Sakura soon warmed up as they watched unconvincing actors butcher the words that the two of them loved to read so much. Peering into the bowl, she discovered that nothing was left other than a few kernels that had failed to pop. She got up, when Kakashi’s voice stopped her. “You’ll miss the best part!” he exclaimed, sounding more disappointed than should be possible.

Heading to the kitchen, she teasingly told him, “that’s not saying much. I think I’ll live.”

Snagging a clean spoon, she grabbed a tub of chocolate ice cream from the freezer. As she left the kitchen, she laughed at the sight before her. The infamous Copy Nin had buried himself to the nose underneath her fluffy, pink blanket. “You look very fearsome. I recommend the look for the next time you head into battle,” she told him as she settled down beside him.

He lowered the blanket and wrapped half of it around her. In a deadpanned voice, he stated, “my enemies will run away crying because they know that they’ll never look as good in pink as I do.”

Another peal of laugher burst forth from her. This man—this strange, horribly awkward, and  _Icha Icha_  obsessed man—was her best friend. “Okay, you keep telling yourself that,” she told him, “don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

Removing the lid from the ice cream, she dug straight into the carton with the spoon. The medic savored the chocolate flavor without bothering to offer Kakashi any, knowing that he’d never been fond of anything sweet. How anyone could live without dessert was beyond her, but it simply meant more for her in this instance. “Oh,” he questioned, eyes never leaving the scene on the TV. “What secret would that be?”

Swallowing a bite of ice cream, she paused with the spoon held aloft. “That your favorite color is pink, of course,” she told him with a grin.

She thought that she detected a smile under his mask, but it was hard to tell in the dim lighting. “You just might be right about that.”

Tucking her legs underneath her, Sakura happily leaned against Kakashi as she prepared to suffer through the rest of the movie. And, boy, did she suffer. The emotional words that had nearly brought her to tears while reading now made her wince. As for the more intimate scenes, she was glad that they weren’t as graphic as they were in the novel. Reading those passages had left her flushed and yearning, whereas watching the poorly made film was uncomfortable, to say the least. The literal climax of the movie was, well…anticlimactic.

“She didn’t even bother to fake it!” she practically yelled in the silver-haired shinobi’s ear, outraged.

When he winced at the volume of her voice, Sakura immediately felt contrite and offered a brief apology. He had sensitive hearing, after all. Kakashi scratched the back of his neck, admitting, “it isn’t the most compelling acting in the world…”

“The only thing that I find compelling about it is the urge to throw away the disc.”

He quickly turned to face her, hand clutching his chest. “Don’t do that! I found it while it was on clearance.”

Sakura found herself rolling her eyes again. “I’m starting to think that you found it in a dumpster somewhere.”

“So mean,” he muttered, shaking his head with mock hurt. “You’re so mean to me.”

She playfully smacked his chest, the light blow glancing off of his  _impressive_  pectoral muscles.

_Anatomy would have been_ so _much more fun to learn if I had been able to use him as a model._

Fighting the urge to blush at her own thoughts, she went back to watching the TV screen, determined to ignore her subconscious. The scene where Himitsu died was rather unmoving. Especially since the close up of her face long after she had taken her last breath revealed that the actress had twitched her nose during the filming process.

The end credits began to roll, riddled with typos. “Unbelievable,” Sakura huffed. “I can’t believe that you made me waste over an hour of my life on this.”

“A moment spent honoring the brilliance of the  _Icha Icha_  series is never a wasted moment.”

“Oh, trust me when I say that watching them butcher my newfound favorite book series made me wish that  _I_ was wasted.”

The sound of a gasp had her turning around to face Kakashi, concerned that something was wrong. She tensed, only to be met with the sight of a delighted Copy Nin, his hands clasped together near his heart and single visible eye gleaming. The medic narrowed her own eyes as she placed her hands on her hips. “What?” she asked suspiciously.

“You just said that the  _Icha Icha_  collection is your favorite series, too!” came Kakashi’s elated reply.

As hard as she tried, she couldn’t quite manage to hide her amused—and slightly exasperated—smile.

* * *

 

Kakashi watched as the pink-haired kunoichi set down the ice cream and grabbed the DVD case from beside the TV. As he watched her scan the cover, he knew that he’d be treated to another display of her fiery temper. Yet, he only felt anticipation.

“What is this? It says, ‘worst film of the year’ and ‘least convincing sex scene’ on the case,” she said furiously, voice raising as she thrust the case out. “You lied to me!”

“I said that it won awards. I never said anything about critical acclaim,” he responded breezily, ducking when the plastic cover came sailing through the air towards him.

It crashed loudly into the wall behind him, falling to the carpeted floor. Thankfully, the disc wasn’t inside the case yet. “You know,” the medic began, causing his attention to shift back to her. “I’m starting to think that you bought someone’s home-made movie instead of the real one because it was cheaper.”

_She knows me so well._

However, while that fact filled him with all sorts of warm feelings that he didn’t want to delve into, it seemed to have the opposite effect on Sakura. Apparently, his silence was all the answer she needed. “I knew it! Next time you go to Lucky’s, you  _better_  buy the official, full-priced  _Icha Icha Paradise_  movie,” she scolded him passionately.

Kakashi wasn’t going to lie to himself. He found it incredibly alluring—perhaps  _arousing_  would be the better word—that the medic was such an ardent fan of the erotic series. He figured it was for the best that they had declared a temporary truce for the duration of movie night, seeing as it was practically a sacred ritual for them. If the bet had been fair game while they were essentially cuddling on the couch, he didn’t know what he would have done. Probably lost his mind or done something they’d both regret…maybe both. While he had technically already won their bet, he wouldn’t be satisfied until Sakura had felt even a modicum of the sheer frustration that he had been subjected to. He would accomplish this, even if it killed him.

But just because the bet was currently off, didn’t mean that he couldn’t have some fun with his favorite kunoichi. “Perhaps we should visit Lucky’s together, in case there are any other movies you’d like me to purchase,” he told her, raising an eyebrow suggestively. The glare she shot him would have made many a hardened shinobi wet themselves. He was proud that he only felt the faintest quiver of fear in his core. “Or,” he quickly amended, “perhaps not.”

“Good answer.”

Right, that was a nice little reminder that Sakura wasn’t attracted to him in the slightest. Kakashi buried any disappointment, knowing that the only thing that mattered was that he had the medic in his life. Nothing else, even his own personal desires, were more important.

While Sakura returned the ice cream and dishes to the kitchen, he turned the lamp in the room on and reunited the DVD with its case. When she walked back to the couch, the Copy Nin couldn’t deny the smug satisfaction that ran through him at the sight of her in one of his shirts. It was adorable, the way the sleeves had been rolled up multiple times and the hem nearly reached her knees. Though, he couldn’t help but notice her choice in socks. “I didn’t know that they came in that color,” he told her fondly, gesturing to her footwear.

The kunoichi glanced down at her feet briefly. “What, these?” she asked, sitting down. He joined her on the sofa, and she placed her feet in his lap. “Every decent clothing store in Konoha sells them.”

The socks in question were pink with tiny silver shuriken all over them. Gently taking hold of her foot, he began to massage it. He frowned at how stiff it felt. She spent far too much time on her feet while working in the hospital. “There’s no need to look so upset, I’ll get you a matching pair,” Sakura told him.

Raising his head to look at her, he was struck by how mirth lit up her features. Captivated by her amused grin, he couldn’t help but respond in kind. It was so  _easy_  being with Sakura. They understood one another’s sarcastic—and sometimes slightly morbid—sense of humor. They understood the other’s struggles and fears. They always knew when the other needed comforting or simply companionable silence. Hell, sometimes it was as if they could read each other’s minds.

That close-knit friendship was the reason that hours later Kakashi found himself sitting on the floor before the kunoichi as she played with his hair. His hitai-ate lay abandoned on the coffee table. A multitude of tiny ponytails littered his hair, captured by brightly colored hair ties. After all the rather intimate conversations they’d been having, he felt it was safe to ask something that he’d been wondering about more than was healthy. “So, have you been making use of your purchase?”

The medic paused as she secured another section of his hair with a purple rubber band. She knew exactly which  _purchase_  he was talking about. Kakashi resisted the urge to winced as she purposely tugged a bit sharply on his hair. “There are some things that I’m not willing to share, even with you,” she told him sternly, fashioning another ponytail. “How much time Enigma and I have spent together is one of those things.”

The Copy Nin turned his head so he could look her in the eyes. “You named your vibrator Enigma?” he asked, incredulous.

Her brow furrowed, and he had to refrain from a sudden desire to smooth out her skin with his thumb. The urge was short lived, seeing as how she abruptly turned him to face away from her again. “It’s going between my thighs, so therefore I can name it whatever I want,” she told him defensively. “Besides, I thought it was a cute name.”

He momentarily stopped breathing, images that heated his blood flooding his mind at her rather vivid words. The styling of his hair resumed, rather forcefully in his silent opinion. “You don’t want it to be cute. No, you need to pick a strong, assertive name, in case of a breakup. Something that destroys your ex’s ego and masculine pride. As they storm out you can yell, ‘at least Bull can satisfy me!’. That way they’re overcome with insecurity.”

It was obvious that she he caught on to his teasing tone. A fit of laughter behind him had him turning once more, finding Sakura as she fell back on the couch, giggling and clutching her side. He found himself smiling again, something that happened with remarkable ease around her. “Stop,” she told him breathlessly, wiping a tear from her eye. “I can’t you seriously right now.”

“Oh, good, I would have been concerned if that wasn’t the case.”

She laughed again, abandoning the addition of new ponytails in favor of simply running her fingers through his remaining unconfined hair. Eventually, his favorite medic began to gently scratch his head. Pleasurable tingles ran down his scalp, as his eyes shut in bliss. Kakashi’s head lolled back, as tension seemed to vanish from his body. Perhaps he had more in common with his ninkin than he thought. He could see why Pakkun and the rest of the pack adored it when Sakura lavished attention on them. Apparently, both they and their master turned to putty in the kunoichi’s hands.

They continued talking with the lack of inhibition brought about by only alcohol or exhaustion. In their case it was the latter, considering that it was currently the wee hours of morning. Sakura eventually brought up the subject of the ideal romantic partner. “I know it’s cliché, but the whole rugged and ‘tall, dark, and handsome’ thing really does it for me,” she admitted.

Kakashi had to admit that he wasn’t too pleased with her dreamy expression and longing sigh as she envisioned some imaginary, dark-haired man. The fact that her fantasy might not revolve around an  _imaginary_  shinobi was a bit more upsetting. But, like any decent ninja of his caliber, he quickly masked any outward reaction to her words.

She startled him out of his tumultuous thoughts by asking, “you?”

“Hm? Oh yes, I too favor tall, dark, and handsome men,” he replied facetiously, if somewhat distractedly.

The Copy Nin found himself smacked by a pillow. “Kakashi! I know your preferences run in a different direction than mine. Besides, there wouldn’t be any guys left for me if you batted for the home team,” she said the last part a bit sulkily. “I told you what my  _type_  is, now you have to tell me yours.”

Unfortunately, despite being hailed as a genius, he made the idiotic mistake of glancing at Sakura right then. She was pretending to pout, with big, pleading eyes that put Pakkun’s proficiency at begging to shame. Kakashi could on rare occasions resist the pug, but never her. Inwardly cursing himself for this weakness, he caved. Wildly thinking of an appropriate response, he blurted out, “Himitsu!”

“What?” the kunoichi questioned, wrinkling her nose. “Wouldn’t that mean you have a thing for Tsunade?”

_Idiot!_

Kakashi forced himself to not slap his own head. How could he have forgotten Jirayia’s blatant inspiration for the heroine in  _Icha Icha Paradise_? “No! I just meant that I, uh, have a thing for medics.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the shinobi silently cursed himself with some rather creative language. Sakura’s eyes widened. “Oh,” she responded quietly.

Hastily clamoring to his feet, he nervously grabbed the back of his neck. “I, um, nature calls,” he managed to say as he all but ran to the bathroom.  

_Real smooth, Hatake_ , his inner voice sneered.

He refused to look back, not wanting to see the revulsion that he was sure to see plainly on Sakura’s face. Wrenching open the bathroom door, he stepped inside and swiftly shut it. He locked it, just in case a disgusted kunoichi came tearing after him in a fit of understandable anger. Then again,  _this_  kunoichi would simply yank the door off its frame, not to be deterred by a flimsy lock.

After flicking on the light, he took a step further inside. Kakashi winced as he accidently on…glancing down, he saw that the offending object had been a tube of mascara. He made his way to the sink, bracing his hands on either side of the white porcelain. He let his head hang down for a few moments before lifting it up to stare at his own reflection. His messy silver hair, ponytails having long since been removed, and a single dark eye were his only visible features.

Roughly, he yanked down the mask obscuring most of his face.

Kakashi stared.

_Tall, dark, and handsome, was it?_

Yes, he was tall, practically towering over Sakura’s diminutive stature. As for the other two items on her checklist, not so much. His hair couldn’t become any paler, even if that had been his goal. Thanks to his ever-present mask, his face hadn’t tanned like most shinobi. As for being handsome…

His scrutiny roamed over his high cheekbones and the small beauty mark near the corner of his lips. He let out a despondent sigh, remembering that the word ‘pretty’ had been used to describe him from time to time. Suddenly, a small burst of what felt suspiciously like hope flared within him. After all, the scar bisecting his left eye could be considered a rugged—

The shinobi abruptly stepped away from the mirror, shaking his head in an attempt to tell if something was loose up there. He needed to stop fixating on her recent confession. His interest meant nothing, considering that she had no desire in anything other than a strictly platonic relationship with him. Which was perfectly fine, it just meant that he needed to do a better job of burying these…whatever these inane feelings were.

Wanting to stall the awkward confrontation he was sure to be met with, he grabbed the toothbrush—decorated with tiny paw prints—that Sakura kept here for him. After brushing thoroughly and rinsing, he opened up the cabinet. Two bottles of mouthwash, one green and the other red, sat side by side within. Grabbing hold of the red bottle, he made use of it, purposely swishing around the liquid longer than necessary. The mouthwash was his, as Sakura had claimed that the cinnamon flavor of it burned too much. He spit in the sink before once again rinsing his mouth and the sink. Returning the bottle to its place, he decided to tidy up the bathroom a bit.

Locating a pink makeup bag, Kakashi swept various compacts and lipstick containers into it. After tucking it beside Sakura’s countless hair care products on a shelf, he straightened the towels hanging on a rack. He shifted the shower curtain open a bit more—one could never be too careful, and enemies lurked in the most unexpected of places.

He pulled his mask back up, figuring that he couldn’t delay any longer. It was probably best to deal with his earlier slip up as soon as possible, anyway. Cautiously leaving the sanctuary of the tiled room, he inched his way back to the living room. Voices made him halt in the bedroom.

“...doesn’t appreciate me properly, not like the way you do, Sakura,” said a deep voice.

“Now, you know that’s not true. Kakashi might not always express it, but he cares about you a great deal,” she replied.

Recognizing the first speaker, he rolled his eyes and continued on to the doorway. Leaning a shoulder against the wooden frame, Kakashi crossed his arms. “Traitor,” he grumbled in annoyance. “What happened to being man’s best friend?”

From where he was lounging beside the kunoichi, Pakkun stared at him dispassionately. “Sorry, Boss,” the ninkin said, any genuine regret noticeably absent, “but she gives me treats and actually thanks me. Unlike  _someone_  I know.”

The silver-haired shinobi could tell that Sakura was fighting back laughter, her eyes bright with amusement. Shooting her a glare that lacked any true displeasure, he fought the smile twitching at his own lips. She continued to rub the pug’s belly from where he was flopped down on the couch. Kakashi frowned, realizing that the ninkin had usurped the shinobi’s prized spot beside the medic.

_Damn dog._

Pakkun knew of their movie night arrangement, and usually made an appearance for the sole purpose of stealing Sakura’s attention. Kakashi hid his scowl beneath his mask as the kunoichi cooed over the pug. As the minutes dragged on, he tried not to sulk as she gave no indication of relenting in her undivided attention to her canine companion. Eventually, after he sat down in front of the couch, she apparently deemed Kakashi worthy of her regard. Though, there was something in her expression that made him instantly suspicious.

“Did you find your toothbrush?” she asked sweetly.

_Too sweetly_ , he thought warily as he nodded in response.

“Good,” she continued, still stroking Pakkun. “Dental hygiene is important, yet often overlooked.”

“And?” he ventured cautiously, “you’re the one that looks like they might fall asleep at any second without brushing their teeth.”

The moment he saw the victorious air that lit her features he knew that he had metaphorically walked straight into her trap. As for what the price was to be, he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. “I already brushed them. My mouth is minty fresh, you can check if you don’t believe me,” Sakura told him guilelessly.

At least he thought the intent behind her words were innocent. If not, then she was a much better actress than he had ever given her credit for. Why wasn’t she given undercover missions more often?

Kakashi swallowed thickly, viciously shoving aside the vivid thoughts that her words conjured in his head. Thoughts of her that he had no right to imagine, even if they did send his heartbeat racing. Did she even realize what she was doing to him?

Trying to seem as detached as possible, he said, “I’ll take your word for it.”

She seemed oddly subdued at his response. Kakashi didn’t pay too much attention, though, because at that moment he was busy glaring at a certain ninkin. The pug was shooting the shinobi a self-satisfied smirk as he snuggled closer to Sakura. The kunoichi was now lying across the sofa comfortably, unlike the nights that Kakashi had spent on it with his feet dangling off the armrest. He supposed that there were perks to being short, after all.

They delved into late night—or early morning, at this point—contemplations as Pakkun snored noisily. Kakashi’s eyes burned, reminding him of his need for sleep. Yet, he was reluctant to let this moment end. It was times like this that he cherished the most. While, yes, he would love to reenact some of the more graphic scenes from the  _Icha Icha_  with Sakura, he would willingly abandon any chance at that in order to keep these moments. The warm camaraderie and laughter—mostly hers—that they shared. Being ridiculous together, sitting in companionable silence, solemnly discussing nightmares.

They talked until Sakura stopped mid-sentence. Curious, he sat up to check on her, only to be met with the sight of a sleeping medic. Getting up, he headed for the closet, grabbing a spare pillow and blanket. He returned to the living room and quietly set down the items beside the couch.

Removing the pink blanket from the back of the sofa, he gently tucked it around the slumbering kunoichi and ninkin, careful not to wake either. He gingerly brushed a strand of pink hair off Sakura’s face, securing it behind her ear. As he lay down on the floor, settling his head on the pillow and tugging his blanket over himself, he couldn’t help but smile.

After what felt like mere moments later, a shrill, blaring noise shattered the peace and quiet. Kakashi turned over, pulling the blanket over his head, hoping that the irritating sound would leave him alone. He heard Sakura groan and pat around the coffee table for something. All of a sudden, something—a rather solid something—crashed into his shoulder.

The pain from the impact wasn’t pleasant, but it was negligible, as he’d experienced  _far_  worse courtesy of his career choice. The important thing was that the horrible screeching sound had finally stopped, making his return to sleep much easier. But just as he was about to slip off into the blissful unconscious state, Sakura interrupted him.

“You have to get up,” she told him blearily. “I promised that you would be at the knitting club meeting today.”

Her words eventually penetrated the drowsy fog he was in. With a heavy sigh, he stood up. A quick glance at the floor let him know that Sakura had accidently—at least he hoped it was accidental—knocked her alarm clock onto him. He simultaneously yawned and rubbed his bruised shoulder. “You got me into this mess, the least you can do is attend with me,” he complained.

“No.”

Much of the force behind her refusal was lost, muffled by the fuzzy blanket that her cheek rested on. “Please?” he wheedled.

“No,” she repeated, though her voice was fainter as she grew closer to falling back asleep.

 “I’ll tell Mrs. Ito that you refused to join the knitting circle. You wouldn’t want to disappoint that dear woman, now would you?”

 While Sakura paused to consider her response, he struck. Kakashi stripped one of her feet of its pink sock, running his finger up the bare sole. Her toes curled tightly, as he triggered the kunoichi’s plantar reflex. It also helped that he knew her to be ticklish here

“No, stop!” she protested, legs flailing.

Kakashi grabbed hold of her ankle before she could retreat, repeating his actions numerous times as she tried to squirm away. “Fine!” Sakura finally capitulated, nearly breathless from her objections of her treatment. “But only if you make breakfast,” she said as she glared at him from behind a tangled mess of pink hair, “ _and_  grab the pills for my cramps from the cabinet for me.”

Kakashi released her foot with a smile. “You drive a hard bargain, you know that? But since you’re my favorite medic,” he said, ignoring her irritated comment that she was the  _only_  medic willing to deal with him, “I accept.”

The day seemed much brighter now, in his opinion.

* * *

 

“Remind me to never agree to anything when I’m in a charitable mood,” Sakura grumbled as she found herself knocking on Mrs. Ito’s door.

“I wouldn’t have called it a  _charitable_  mood,” Kakashi replied. She punched the annoying man in the arm lightly, but he still stumbled a step back at the force. “Besides, I would have been very out of place if I had come by myself.”

“Really?” she asked dryly, quirking a brow as she turned to face him. “I think you’ll fit right in, with your hair color and all.”

Faking an alarmed look, he clutched a hand to his hair as he asked, “oh no, are my roots showing?”

Before she could respond—with a laugh or another punch, she wasn’t sure—the elderly proprietor of the apartment opened the door. She greeted them warmly, catching Sakura in a shockingly strong hug and kissing her cheek, before doing the same to Kakashi. The medic had to fight a smile at the sight of the Copy Nin being manhandled by the grandmother of five.

They were ushered into the flat and led to the living room, almost every inch of the walls covered in photos of Mrs. Ito’s children and grandchildren. Three other women, all well into their golden years, sat in a circle of mismatched chairs. Sakura had to admit that they all bore an uncanny resemblance to Mrs. Ito, with their cropped, slightly curled grey hair.

Though they were introduced to each of the official members of the knitting circle, the medic only managed to remember Mrs. Boshi’s name. This was likely due to the fact that she was too fixated on the woman’s large hat to pay attention to the other introductions. The hat was decorated with a nest and a bird perching within it. She had a feeling that the bird was an actual, preserved specimen.

Kakashi must have noticed her staring, as he nudged her side with his elbow. Thankfully, no one else seemed to have noticed her faux pas. “Oh,” Mrs. Ito gushed, “I’m so glad that both of you could make it.”

“We’re excited to be here,” she replied, forcing as much enthusiasm as possible into her tone.

She sat with Kakashi on a loveseat, as it was the only seating available. As soon as they were settled, their host excitedly shoved knitting needles and balls of yarn at them. Normally, it felt perfectly natural to have sharp objects in her hands, whether it be kunai or surgical instruments. Sakura was at a loss, though, when it came to the knitting needles.

The medic had managed to cast on the beginning stitches easily enough, since it wasn’t all that much different from tying surgical knots. After that, though, she was stuck. Despite having watched both Mrs. Ito and Boshi demonstrate multiple times, she couldn’t seem to accomplish anything past that initial step. She fumbled with the needles, accidently dropping one on the floor.

Leaning down, she snuck a peek at Kakashi’s handiwork, glad that someone else was as terrible at this whole knitting thing as she was. However, she found herself narrowing her eyes when she spotted his speedily moving hands. He had already completed several rows of stiches. Incredulous, she glanced at his face for any hint at how he had accomplished that.

_Unbelievable._

Swiftly picking up her fallen knitting needle, she whispered in his ear under the guise of sitting back up. “That’s an abuse of power,” she hissed quietly, not wanting the others to overhear.

The famed Copy Nin had lifted his hitai-ate from over his left eye, the sharingan activated so he could copy the knitting techniques of his elderly neighbor. “It’s utilizing my resources to the fullest extent of my ability in order to accomplish the ultimate objective.” She shot him a decidedly unamused stare. “You’re just jealous that I’m better at knitting than you,” he told her, amusement evident in his voice.

Competitive spirit riled, Sakura picked up her needles again with a renewed sense of purpose. Five minutes later, she was forced to accept that knitting  _wasn’t_  something she was good at. Lowering her mangled attempt of creating something from the yarn in her lap, she gazed around the room. The woman to her left stared suspiciously at Sakura from behind her thick glasses, like she had since the moment the kunoichi had first set foot in the room. Sakura had no clue how the lady could knit while simultaneously watch her without blinking.

After a quick smile, Sakura hastily moved her regard elsewhere. She was delighted to find a black cat with white socks heading towards her. Instead of struggling with yarn, she could coo over the feline. Unfortunately, the creature had decided that her silver-haired friend was more interesting. Sakura couldn’t fault its logic.

Kakashi visibly stiffened the moment that the cat climbed into his lap. “Don’t mind Wiggles, he’s just being friendly,” Mrs. Ito told them cheerfully.

“Hello, Wiggles,” the medic gushed, letting the cat sniff her hand, “aren’t you handsome?”

For someone who was an elite shinobi, Kakashi was doing a poor job of concealing his displeasure at his lap’s occupant. Maybe not for the others, but his unease was perfectly clear to Sakura. Multiple conversations that they’d had came to mind, in which he had espoused the merits and loyalty of dogs. That, and the decided lack of loyalty in addition to apathy that he believed cats to have.

She scratched Wiggles under the chin, and he immediately erupted into a fit of purrs. He ducked and nudged her hand with his head, wanting to be stroked between the ears. A sharp inhale to her right made her glance over at Kakashi, who looked decidedly unamused. While Wiggles purred away, the cat’s claws had reflexively dug into the surface he was perched on. Unfortunately, for her friend, that surface was his thigh.

Regardless, the affectionate cat warmed her heart. “Maybe I should adopt one,” she mussed, almost to herself.

Kakashi regarded her with a look of horror and mild disgust, as if she were an undiscovered creature that had just crawled out of a swamp. That, or he was personally offended at her affinity for felines. “If you do that, our friendship will cease to exist,” he whispered sharply.

“It might be worth it,” she teased.

His glare was rather impressive, which she contributed to having both of his eyes seemingly piercing her very soul.

Wiggles abandoned them, but not before kneading Kakashi’s leg a bit more with sharp claws. Sakura decided to make another valiant attempt at knitting. The effort was short lived, seeing as how she had somehow managed to tangle her hands in the yellow yarn. Resisting the urge to sigh, she wondered how she would survive the foreseeable future. Inspiration struck. The bet  _had_  become fair game since the moment they had left her apartment earlier this morning…

Mindful of their company, Sakura went with the most innocuous sounding quote in her arsenal. “Maybe I just don’t have it in me,” she announced as she set down the knitting needles again.

Amid a chorus of reassurance that there was plenty of time to learn, Kakashi leaned in close. “Say the word, and I’ll be in you,” he said for ears alone.

Forcing herself not to shiver at his heated words, she controlled her reaction to his heated words. His admission last night, about having a thing for medics, had her thinking that maybe, just  _maybe_ —

Ruthlessly, she crushed the glimmer of hope that welled up within her. Just because she had developed something of a crush—it was  _absolutely_  nothing more than that—on her former sensei over the last few years didn’t mean that he viewed her in the same light. Over the years, he’d grown to respect her skills and abilities as being on par with his own, as well as becoming close friends with her. But just because he no longer saw her as the twelve-year-old genin that he had once taught didn’t mean that he had any romantic interest in her.

Mrs. Ito stood and left the room, breaking Sakura’s train of thought. Surreptitiously, she breathed in the comforting—she refused to think of it as alluring—scent of him. The earthy notes mingled pleasantly with spicy, cinnamon-like undertones. Sakura had never been a fan of anything spicy, but more and more she found herself wanting to take a bite out of—

_What’s wrong with me today?_

Eyes widening, she lurched forward to snatch a cookie from the table in the center of their circle. Another hand reached the same cookie that hers did. Relinquishing her hold on the baked good, she looked towards the owner of the appendage. The lady sitting closest to Kakashi stared back at her, never breaking eye contact as she devoured the cookie in a single bite.

Slightly unnerved and not knowing what else to do, Sakura quickly averted her gaze, redirecting it to the plate of cookies. Well, cookie. She grabbed the last remaining snack and resumed her sitting position. The medic had her suspicions that the rest had been consumed by the lady that had snatched one right from her hand. Munching away, she was happy to find that the cookie contained an ample amount of chocolate. She suddenly understood the other woman’s reluctance to let anyone else eat them. She might just force Kakashi to attend more of these meetings if it meant these cookies were served each time.

After swallowing the last bite, she found the man in question staring at her. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously, she asked, “what?”

He reached out, thumb gently brushing crumbs from the corner of her mouth before tracing her bottom lip. Kakashi returned to his knitting as if nothing had happened, while she sat there in mild shock. Feeling as if the heat from his skin had burned her, she absentmindedly touched her lip. Sakura found herself wishing that he had been receptive to removing the cookie crumbs in a different manner…

_Mind out of the gutter!_

She could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks, much to the kunoichi’s dismay. To distract herself, she discreetly stabbed Kakashi in the side with a knitting needle. “What are you making, a cover to hide those books of yours in public?” she inquired, ignoring the fact that she had a closet obsession with the aforementioned books.

“Hm, I was thinking about making myself a new mask,” he replied, tapping his chin as he pretended to contemplate the decision.

“With that cheery, red yarn? Very intimidating. I’m sure that all enemies will be overcome with terror when they witness your new and improved wardrobe, not to mention your impressive knitting skills,” she retorted.

Secretly, Sakura had to admit that his ability to knit  _was_  impressive, even if he had cheated in order to do so. “Well,” he told her, “I was hoping that you’d knit yourself a better personality, but apparently you’re not skilled enough for that.”

Just as she was about to open her mouth and release the mother of all tirades down upon her supposed best friend, Mrs. Ito returned with a tray with tea. Grateful for something to curb her temper, she thanked the woman and took a sip.

“So, Sakura, when do you plan on having kids?” Mrs. Boshi asked.

Sakura choked on her tea.

The liquid went down the wrong way and she found herself unable to breathe. She struggled for breath, eyes watering.

_This is it, this is how I die. Surrounded by yarn, elderly women, and a laughing Copy Nin!_

The medic swore that she would come back and haunt Mrs. Boshi to get revenge for her humiliating death. That silent oath was reaffirmed when the woman continued. “I simply can’t wait to hear the pitter patter of little shinobi feet running around again,” the lady said almost wishfully.

Kakashi had apparently recognized her plight, as he began forcefully slapping her back repeatedly. Finally, wheezing a bit, Sakura found oxygen entering her starved lungs. Patting his hand, she weakly offered the silver-haired shinobi her thanks. “Now, now, dear,” Mrs. Ito told her friend. “Sakura’s a kunoichi, she’s much too busy protecting Konoha right now for that. Maybe in a few years.”

Mrs. Ito winked at the medic.

_I love this woman!_

Right at that moment, Wiggles dropped down from only who knows where, pouncing on Mrs. Boshi’s head. The woman screamed, jumping out of her seat to an impressive height. The hat went flying, the cat following it. Apparently, he had decided that the bird displayed on top of the accessory would make for the perfect prey.

While the hat’s owner furiously tried to stop Wiggles from his destructive actions, Sakura discovered a deeper appreciation for cats. She laughed, the rich sound echoing throughout the small room. Maybe it made her a bad person, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Karma was a beautiful thing.

“Well,” Kakashi announced, wrapping his newly finished scarf around Sakura. It was her favorite color, and thanks to him she found herself bundled up to the nose in the scarf. “I guess that’s our cue to leave,” he told her, smile evident by the laughter in his voice. 

 


	6. A Bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit that this chapter isn't quite as light hearted as the others, but I still hope that you enjoy. Also, big thanks to everyone who has commented, really makes my day!

Sakura unconsciously bit her lower lip, reaching one of the more heated scenes of the book. Distantly, she heard a knock at the door. Turning a page, she ignored the noise, hoping that her visitor would leave if the medic pretended that she wasn’t home. Unfortunately, the polite rap against the wood soon turned into an aggressive pounding.  

It was with great reluctance—and annoyance—that she set aside the novel and dragged herself to the door, her only goal being to put an end to the incessant noise. It was interfering with her ability to concentrate on Jiraiya’s work, after all. Unlocking and yanking the front door open, she caught Ino mid-knock, the blonde’s fist held aloft and poised to strike the door.

“What?” the pink haired kunoichi growled.

In typical Ino fashion, the kunoichi flicked her long hair back before barging in, uninvited. The next instant, Sakura found herself being smacked in the face with dark fabric. “Now, Forehead, is that any way to properly greet the person saving your sorry excuse of a social life?”

Sakura groaned, knowing the direction that this visit was going to take. It wasn’t that she was being reclusive, she was simply just exhausted after dealing with a fourteen-hour shift at the hospital. She would much rather return to her cozy position on the couch and read than follow her friend’s plan for the evening. With a sudden burst of panic, the medic shot her gaze over to where she had been sitting. Thankfully, she had tucked the copy of _Icha Icha Tactics_ under the pink blanket.

Moderately relieved, she turned back to Ino and complained. “Do I have to?” she asked, not caring at how petulant her tone sounded.

“It’s funny how you think you have a choice in this,” her friend told her, arms crossed with a determined, unrelenting stare.

An hour later, Sakura blamed that piercing stare as the reason that she found herself walking down the streets of Konoha as the sun set. Their heels clattered against the pavement as Ino led the way to the Wobbly Kunai. Just before entering the bar, Sakura tugged self-consciously at the hem of the dress her friend had thrown at her earlier. The black dress had a surprisingly high neckline, but the shortage of fabric below her rear more than made up for that—in the blonde’s opinion at least.

“Stop doing that, it makes you look uncomfortable,” Ino told her while opening the door.

“I _am_ uncomfortable.”

Stepping inside the establishment, they were greeted by the sounds of conversation and low background music. Sakura caught a glimpse of silver towards the back as Ino dragged her to the bar, and she sent a smile in that direction. Kakashi acknowledged her with an eye crinkle and a raised glass.

She plopped down onto a barstool, hand settling on the varnished wood counter. It was lovingly polished, but bore a multitude of nicks and scratches. The clientele was mainly shinobi, after all, and they tended to play with their weapons more frequently while under the influence of liquor. Beside her, Ino was leaning across the surface in a way that made her cleavage more pronounced to the bartender.

A few coquettish comments from the blond later, and the two kunoichi had drinks placed in front of them. Sakura stirred the blue concoction before her with its tiny paper umbrella, giving it a dubious look. Considering that it was free, though, she decided to not be picky. She took a sip, and just as she had feared the fruity taste completely overpowered the flavor of the alcohol.

Ino suddenly sat up straighter, her attention held by something—or, more likely, _someone_ —behind her. Eyes following where her friend was staring, she realized that Sai was seated at a table with Naruto. “You can go, it’s fine,” she told Ino when the blond sent a pleading look her way.

“Thanks, Forehead, you’re the best!”

After taking another, reluctant sip of whatever her drink was, Sakura sighed. Swinging her legs slightly, the medic considered kicking off her shoes, knowing that her feet would be killing her by the end of the night otherwise. Wondering who else was frequenting the bar tonight, she gazed around the establishment. Her focus snagged on a table towards the back.

She tried to ignore the annoyance that flared to life within her at witnessing some of the women Genma was attempting to charm send longing glances in Kakashi’s direction. Seeing as how he was her closest friend, it was only natural to feel protective of the silver-haired shinobi.

Right?

He, of all people, deserved happiness after all he had gone through. Sakura refused to allow any woman to take advantage of his secretly caring nature, only to leave him reeling from another loss. The occasional one-night stand was different from some demanding woman sinking her undeserving claws into him. The latter was something that the medic would never let happen to him. It was a shame that no one seemed to meet her high standards for dating Kakashi. After all, it meant that on multiple occasions Sakura had had to scare away more than one overly eager lady that had ulterior motives for catching Konoha’s most elusive bachelor.  

“Hey, Sakura,” Naruto practically yelled as he slung an arm around her shoulders, “up for a friendly competition?”

* * *

 

Kakashi immediately regretted setting his arms down on the table, as something sticky snagged hold of his sleeve the second he did so. After discreetly reclaiming his arm from the table, he pulled a more than slightly battered book from a vest pocket. Despite being able to recite it word for word, he flipped through the pages at a leisurely pace. It helped ward off Gai’s lengthy and over exuberant conversations, after all. As his spandex clad friend began to spout off about the power of youth for the twelfth time since their arrival, a pair entered the establishment, thankfully granting him a distraction.

His gaze was drawn to Sakura as her friend led her in by the hand. Ino must have had a hand in picking the pink-haired kunoichi’s outfit, considering its short length. The simple, black dress clung lovingly to her figure, emphasizing her modest, but very much present, curves. Her toned legs were on display, surprisingly long for a woman of her endearingly short height.

He had to admit that he enjoyed the sight of her. However, several other men—possibly one or two women, as well—seemed to appreciate her appearance as well. His enthusiasm dulled a tad, figuring that he would have to fend off her unworthy, would-be-suitors. She was his best friend, after all, so nothing less than the best would do.

When she spotted him in the crowd and gave him a warm smile, he couldn’t help but respond in kind. He lifted his drink for good measure, only to set it right back down as Gai enthusiastically slapped his back, threatening to spill the beer. However, the other shinobi soon slammed his hands on the table to emphasize some point in the conversation that Kakashi had failed to pay attention to. The Copy Nin watched sadly as the glass tipped over, spilling beer across the wood surface and Gai’s lap.

To be honest, he didn’t particularly care about the spilled drink—he hadn’t paid for it, after all—and he found no small amount of amusement at his friend’s predicament. However, he now had to awkwardly console Gai, who was even more emotional while under the influence. By the time the other shinobi’s tears had stopped flowing, someone else was noticeably absent from the table.

Genma’s tendency to flirt with anything human had never bothered him before, yet Kakashi felt his eyes narrow as he watched the man play with strands of Sakura’s hair. He felt the sudden urge to impale the man with his own senbon.

Repeatedly.

Kakashi took a deep breath before exhaling slowly, reminding himself that he had no reason to feel so…possessive. Besides, the medic was more than capable of taking care of herself. She proved his point when he saw her slap Genma’s hand away before setting a ceramic flask in front of the man.

Realizing for the first time that Naruto was sitting beside her, Kakashi had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to happen. The blond had always had a competitive streak, and drinking contests were no exception. Though why he insisted in trying to outdrink Sakura was beyond all of them.

Slapping Gai on the back, he stood up and made his way to the bar that the three “contestants” were sitting at. Leaning between Naruto and Sakura, he rested his elbows on the counter. “Drowning your sorrows of missing my delightful presence?” he asked drolly.

“Like anyone could miss you,” Naruto responded, rolling his eyes.

The blond yelped in pain when Sakura grabbed his ear, telling him, “don’t be rude.”

“Why, Sakura, I always suspected that you liked it rough,” Genma drawled, rolling a senbon from one side of his mouth to the other.

“Careful,” she shot back, fist raised threateningly, “or you’ll know first-hand just how rough I can be.”

He offered her a quick salute, before claiming, “duly noted.”

Genma then proceeded to down some more sake. When the medic turned to face him, Kakashi forced himself to not outwardly react. Soft, loose curls were tousled around her face, framing her features, while eyeliner and dark eyeshadow made her green eyes all the more captivating. Her bare leg brushed his, seemingly scalding him through the fabric of his uniform pants.

“Did you come over here to scavenge for a free drink?” she teased.

“Are you insinuating that I force others to pay for my tab?” he began, shaking his head. “I’m hurt.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “You know, sometimes you make me want to scream.”

Kakashi quickly glanced at her drinking companions, noting the fact that Naruto’s hands were shaky as he attempted to pour himself sake, spilling far more onto the bar than into his cup. Genma was doing better, but not by much. Ensured that their inebriated attention was elsewhere, he leaned closer to her.

“Scream what? My name?” he murmured, cloth covered lips briefly caressing her ear.

He pulled away, smirking at her widened eyes and parted lips.

* * *

 

For a second, Sakura felt as if she couldn’t breathe. The feel of his warm breath brushing her skin and softly stirring her hair lingered. It was…pleasant.

_Stop lying to yourself._

Alright, so it was far more than pleasant. It was downright dangerous, because it reminded her of how much she wanted something that she had no right to long for. Though, that comment he had made a few nights ago about having a _thing_ for medics had made her hope that—

_No, get a hold of yourself!_

She was grateful that they were in public, since it forced her to tamp down on her pesky feelings.

Pesky feeling that she feared went far deeper than mere lust.

Forcing a wry smile to her lips, she decided that it would be safest to change the subject. Gently, she pushed him away a few inches in order to regain the ability to think clearly. “I’m wearing black,” she falsely explained, brushing her hands over the slinky material of the dress. Because she found herself unable to meet his eyes at that moment, she missed his heated gaze as he followed the movements of her hands. “You’ll get dog hair all over me,” she teased.

“How _ruff_ for you.”

Sakura looked up at him, genuine humor coloring her laugh. His sense of humor was one of the _many_ reasons that she considered him her best friend. Having him in her life was far more important than acting upon the wildly inappropriate thoughts that she had about him with alarming frequency. Ignoring the heavy feeling that settled within her chest, she took another sip of sake, relishing the warmth as it went down.

_Thunk_.

They both looked to their right, where Naruto was face down on the polished wood. Having witnessed this particular phenomenon before, Kakashi grabbed the blonde’s partially empty container and set it by her, knowing that she would easily finish it off. “He still hasn’t gotten it through his thick skull that he’s a lightweight, especially compared to me,” the medic commented.

Half a bottle of sake was all it took to put Naruto under. They had learned the hard way that the Kyuubi’s healing abilities did not extend to alcohol tolerance. With a long-suffering sigh, Sakura reached over the bar for a stash of napkins that she knew were kept there. Gingerly, more so out of the desire to keep her fingers clean than concern for her teammate, she lifted his head long enough to slip a napkin underneath his cheek. It was perfect timing, considering that he began to drool seconds later.

“Very stately,” Kakashi commented, “makes him look like the perfect Hokage candidate.”

“Stop it,” she warned, on the verge of giggling.

While Sakura had steadily been making a dent in her own bottle of rice wine, Genma had apparently become much more suggestive towards anyone placing orders with the bartender. Of course, his bolstered confidence was courtesy of the liquid courage that he had been downing.

_Like he needed an excuse to flirt more than usual._

 After draining what was left in his ceramic flask, the brown-haired shinobi stood up unsteadily. “Kashi!” Sakura warned.

“I got him,” he replied, catching the man under the armpits just as he began to sway towards the floor.

“Guess that’s my cue,” she announced, picking up Naruto in a fireman’s hold.

She walked over to where Kakashi had propped up a drowsy looking Genma, before grabbing the inebriated man and adjusting her hold on her teammate. Sakura headed towards an empty booth, hefting the two, muscular shinobi over each shoulder as if they weighed nothing. She laid them down on either side of the table, both on their own cushioned seat.

“Jus’ one kisss?” Genma asked, words slurred.

Sakura scoffed. “In your dreams.”

“Ooh, you whell be…” he mumbled, finger weakly waving in her general direction.

Maybe his leer and suggestive words would have been more effective if he had been able to keep his eyes open and string together a coherent sentence.

Maybe, but not likely.

Sakura placed his raised hand on his chest before patting the limp extremity. “I think it’s time for a little nap,” she told him, green light enveloping her own hand.

Thanks to her medical ninjutsu, she temporarily placed him in an unconscious state, filtering some of the alcohol out of his system. When she finished, she made sure to turn him on his side, before repeating the process with Naruto.

“They’ll expect this kind of treatment every time they overindulge, you know,” Kakashi told her, leaning against the booth, his arms crossed.

“Konoha needs them _and_ their livers in fighting condition.”

“You’d think they would have learned their lesson by now and stopped trying to beat you in a drinking contest,” he said.

She was able to metabolize alcohol rapidly through the use of her medical jutsu, and therefore nullify its effects to a certain extent. Hence why she could drink her body weight in sake with only a pleasant buzz and no side effects, if she so desired. Did those two loveable idiots currently drooling away think that saving lives was the only benefit to being a medic, especially considering who her mentor had been?

“Well,” she responded as she stood up, hands coming to rest on her hips. “At least I won’t have to pay for next month’s groceries.”

She grinned, thinking of the I.O.U. that was tucked in her bra, promising that the two passed out shinobi would pay up. “That’s my girl,” Kakashi announced, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “I couldn’t be prouder,” he finished, his free hand wiping away a fake tear.

A warm sensation bubbled up within Sakura at his words, even though they were spoken in jest. Being held tightly against his side didn’t help her shove aside the feeling, either. “Why?” she asked airily, “because I’m making others pay for my meals?”

“Exactly.”

They both laughed as they walked back to her previous spot. Reluctantly, Sakura pulled away from him when she saw Gai trying to catch his attention. With a gentle shove, she pushed him towards his friend that had deplorable fashion sense.

The medic sat on a stool, turning sidewise to glance at Kakashi. The sight of the civilian women—whom Genma had abandoned in his newly comatose state—crowding around his table left an acerbic taste in her mouth, one that she quickly tried to wash away with sake.

_Since when did they frequent a shinobi bar?_

More importantly, did they really have to touch Kakashi’s arm? The man was clearly uncomfortable, shifting away from them. However, even pulling out his beloved _Icha Icha Paradise_ didn’t seem to work as a deterrent. She unknowingly clenched her fist as a particularly friendly redhead leaned her buxom figure against the silver-haired shinobi.

Sakura wondered what the legal penalty for threatening a citizen of Konoha would be. It just might be worth it—

“This seat taken?” someone asked behind her, the rich voice interrupting her internal musings.

* * *

 

Kakashi would much rather be somewhere else. Anywhere else, in fact, though preferably Sakura would be beside—

He shut down that train of thought as swiftly as possible. Still, he found himself unable to stop from glancing towards his favorite medic.

He frowned.

Then frowned some more as something sharp twisted in his gut.

An ANBU operative had claimed the stool beside Sakura, saying something that made her laugh. Kakashi didn’t care for the man— _boy_ , really—considering that he was wearing the black ops uniform sans mask in a public setting, revealing his identity. Blatantly disregarding the first rule of the elite branch did not present a good first impression. That, along with the cocky way he held himself made it obvious that the operative had yet to be ordered on missions that left him aged beyond his years and a different person by the time he walked back through the gates of Konoha again.

The ones that still had Kakashi jolting awake in the middle of the night, clutching his chest in an attempt to breathe normally.  

_New recruit, then._

Just another reason why the young upstart shouldn’t be trying to capture Sakura’s interest. It was too bad that he seemed to have already accomplished that, though, judging by the way she animatedly spoke with the boy.

Looking down at the empty glass in his hands, it occurred to Kakashi that he had never gotten a drink to replace the one that Gai had spilled. He stood and made his way to where the bartender was. It was just a _coincidence_ that he placed his order at the bar within earshot of Sakura and her new…acquaintance.

“I’m sorry, but I never caught your name.”

Kakashi scoffed when he just so happened to overhear the ANBU operative. Between her pink hair and the distinctive seal on her forehead, nearly all of Konoha recognized Sakura on sight. The Copy Nin’s sound of incredulousness apparently hadn’t been all that discrete, since the kunoichi in question shot him a reproachful look.

The burly bartender set a beer down in front of him, claiming Kakashi’s attention. “Just put it on Gai’s tab,” he said by way of payment.

He could hear Sakura continuing her conversation with the boy beside her. Though it took more effort than he would ever admit, Kakashi never looked back at the pair as he returned to his seat. It was a different matter the second he sat down beside Gai.

He found his gaze constantly drawn back to the pink haired kunoichi and her newfound companion. Kakashi was a silent witness, from afar, to their interactions. It didn’t take long for an irrational anger to brew within him. Downing what was left of his beer, he headed over to the bar for a second. It was purely by chance that he did so just as the ANBU recruit left in the direction of the bathroom.

“So, I see that you’re making new friends,” Kakashi remarked as casually as possible.

“Who, Hansa?” Sakura asked, glancing up at the silver-haired shinobi.

“I’m assuming, unless you’ve somehow met another ANBU operative in the past twenty minutes.”

“ANBU…the things that uniform does to me,” she told him dreamily, staring off into space, as if fondly reminiscing.

He cursed the annoyance that rose up in him when he saw her smile. A smile that he clearly wasn’t the cause of, considering that it was directed at _Hansa’s_ retreating form. Kakashi refrained from informing her that he still had his own ANBU uniform tucked away in the recesses of his closet. The unbidden urge to offer to model it for her was similarly ignored.

“Well,” he began, swallowing the bitterness that his words brought forth, “looks like you found your ideal man.”

Sakura opened her mouth to speak, but he couldn’t bear to hear her agreement. He grabbed his fresh beer and strode back to his table. He crossed paths briefly with Hansa, in all of his rugged, dark-haired glory.

_Everything she wants, and everything that I’m not._

He couldn’t help but give the younger shinobi a warning glance, silently telling him not to take advantage of Sakura. The cocky smirk that Kakashi received in response only made his dislike of Hansa grow exponentially. The unease that settled in the pit of his stomach did not abate as he sat beside his green-clad friend once again.

Each bottle of alcohol went down quicker than the previous as he watched Sakura laughing. The lyrical notes filled Kakashi’s hearing and seemingly took up residence under his skin, adding to his inane irritation. It was with mild surprise that he realized his bottle was empty, having no recollection of drinking it in the first place. He made yet another trip back to the bar—he had lost count somewhere after the fifth one, all the Copy Nin knew was that he had to focus on the placement of his feet in order to not stumble.

After ordering the next round of drinks for the table, he glanced over to where a certain pink-haired medic was perched on a stool.

He immediately regretted it.

Slight color had crept into her cheeks, though he wasn’t sure if it was due to the sake she had been drinking or the boy’s attention. His stomach roiled and he found himself clenching the bottles handed to him by the bartender far tighter than necessary. Reminding himself that he shouldn’t care who Sakura was interested in did not work in the slightest.

He went back to the table and resumed his staring contest with Hansa, unbeknownst to the kunoichi. Kakashi was a legend for a reason, easily striking fear into the heart of even the most experienced ANBU agent with such a murderous glare. Regrettably, the man—although suddenly pale—remained by Sakura’s side. Whether it was because his desire to take the kunoichi home for the night outweighed the fear for his life, or that everyone knew that not even the famed Copy Nin would willingly rouse Sakura’s anger, Kakashi didn’t know.  

Unfortunately, Gai was more observant than most people gave him credit for. It seemed that he had noticed to whom Kakashi’s dark look kept returning. “Afraid he’ll steal her away?” he asked quietly, surprisingly serious.

“Considering that she’s a person, she can’t exactly be stolen,” Kakashi responded dully.

Still, he couldn’t deny that the boy was occupying quite a bit of her attention.

_Attention she usually gives me_ , he thought sullenly.

All he could see was the playful way that Sakura twirled a pink strand of hair around a finger, fully engrossed in whatever Hansa was saying. Before he could comprehend what was happening, Kakashi found himself striding across the bar. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to sit between Sakura and the irritating boy that refused to take a hike. There was absolutely no way that Hatake Kakashi was jealous.

Not at all.

Not a snowball’s chance in Suna.

Yet, the unpleasant sensation welling up within him would probably have a suspicious green color if it could be seen.

“Yo,” he announced cheerily as he moved a barstool between Sakura and the ANBU agent.

The stool scraped against the floor, emitting a high-pitch screech that had Hansa wincing and the medic rolling her eyes.

“You sure know how to make an entrance.”

He gifted Sakura an eye crinkle for her comment, ignoring the prickling sensation of eyes drilling into the back of his skull. Kakashi found a perverse amusement in knowing that the glare came from the direction of the ANBU operative. Then the boy had to go and ruin the moment.

“So, you were saying that you enjoy working as a medic?” Hansa prompted, leaning around the silver-haired shinobi.

Sakura glanced at Kakashi just then, a devious glint entering her eyes. Kakashi recognized that look. It was the one that always spelled trouble for his sanity. “I do, I find it very rewarding. There’s only one complaint that I have,” she began.

_She wouldn’t dare…_

He narrowed his eyes at her, but apparently she _did_ dare.

“Lately I’ve been wanting more. Something _bigger_ , a challenge that’s _harder_. Something that’s a bit more _satisfactory_.”

He had to hand it to her, he wouldn’t have assumed that Sakura would be bold enough to quote one of the opening lines from _Icha Icha Paradise_ while talking to a near-stranger in order to get a rise out of her counterpart in a certain bet. He saw the interest evident in the boy’s face double. Hansa apparently seemed to think that that something—or someone—was him, which was unfortunate for Kakashi’s blood pressure and rapidly thinning patience.

Slamming a hand down onto the polished wood, Kakashi interrupted whatever the ANBU agent was about to say. “Sakura, I’m ready for that arm wrestling rematch that you promised me,” he announced loudly without thinking.

Kakashi would rather sacrifice his already battered pride through an arm wrestling match with the undefeated champion than allow Hansa the opportunity to engage Sakura in another form of… _wrestling_. Besides, this particular pastime of Team Seven was known to make many shinobi wary of dating—or at least attempt to date—Sakura. They tended to feel intimidated by the ease with which she flung grown ninja around with one arm. He was hoping that Hansa would share that view, because if he didn’t respect her immense strength, then he wasn’t worth her time. If the boy did…well, then Kakashi would just have to expose some other flaw in the young operative.

A murmur went through the crowd of customers once they realized that they would be treated to witnessing the renowned Copy Nin be thrown around like a rag doll by a diminutive, pink-haired kunoichi. Despite it being a semi-regular occurrence in the Wobbly Kunai, it apparently hadn’t lost its appeal. With a sigh, he sat down at the table that had been cleared for them, resigned to his fate.

“No chakra,” he stated, giving Sakura a warning look.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Her full, bottom lip slid forward in a pretend pout. Despite the bustling commotion all around him, Kakashi’s attention was captivated by her mouth against his will. He was further mesmerized when her tongue darted out to moisten it. The pink flesh glistened invitingly in the dim lighting.

_I wonder where else she would—_

“Kakashi!”

With a start, he lifted his gaze, uneasy with the direction that his thoughts had been taking. All he managed to get out in response was, “hm?”

“I asked if you were ready,” Sakura told him. “What, did your mind wander to your precious books?” she teased.

No, and the fact that she occupied more of his thoughts than the _Icha Icha_ series did was something he found concerning.

Very concerning.

He set his elbow down on the—thankfully non-sticky—table, hand ready to grasp her own. She mirrored his actions, clasping his hand in a firm hold. Some cheers went up, most encouraging Sakura to wipe the floor with him. Then he heard his own name, along with something to do with youth, called out by Gai. Kakashi resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Three,” someone announced from behind him, counting down.

The medic seated across from him grinned madly, and he found himself responding more sedately, eye crinkle visible.

“Two.”

The steely, competitive edge that entered her gaze suddenly made Kakashi think that he had made a mistake of the injury-causing variety. He gulped, thankful that his mask hid any signs of trepidation.

“One.”

The instant that the self-appointed referee had finished the countdown, Kakashi applied all of his strength to his right arm, every fiber of his muscles straining. Sakura overpowered him with such ease that it made it seem as though he wasn’t even trying. He didn’t have time to dwell on his far inferior strength, considering that he found his arm being smashed into the table with incredible speed.

The moment that his limb met wood, he felt his arm being smashed _through_ the tabletop. He stared up in a daze from where he was sprawled across the floor, surrounded by the shattered remains of the table. Everything had occurred within the span of a single second. It took longer for the air that had been forcefully expelled from his lungs to return. He was glad that his favorite kunoichi had refrained from using any chakra, considering that he’d be lying at the bottom of a crater several feet in the ground otherwise.

He watched with mild amusement as Sakura threw her arms up in a celebratory manner amidst cheers. “I’m good, don’t mind me. I’ll just wait here until you’ve finished your victory lap,” he wheezed.

The pink-haired kunoichi came to a stop beside him, hands on her hips. “Has old age finally caught up to you?” she joked.

Despite the light tone of her sentence, which was not meant seriously, he was hard-pressed to hide his wince. Her words struck closer to home than he would ever admit. It reminded him that he was nearly a decade and a half older than her, not to mention that he had once been her genin sensei. The overly frequent fantasies of her—his closest friend—that his mind conjured up suddenly made him feel…dirty.

He supposed that he was more depraved than everyone assumed _._

Yet, he couldn’t deny that something within him softened as her flushed, cheerful face looked down at him. “Or,” she said, offering him her hand, “have all of those avoided hospital visits come for their retribution?”

“I think that you should just become my personal, at-home medic,” he replied, reaching up to accept her assistance from the floor. “I have an outfit that you can wear and everything.”

_What are you doing, Hatake?_ he furiously questioned himself, wondering if he had indeed gone mad.

Sakura slapped his hand away as soon as his involuntary, cheeky comment slipped out. He sighed, exasperated with himself more than anything, and stood up on his own. Gingerly stepping over wood shards, he glanced around the room as he headed towards where the medic had moved.

As soon as he saw Hansa walking in the same direction, he hastened his pace until he reached the kunoichi’s side. Regardless of his own unsuitability for Sakura, the boy was also unworthy of her. Kakashi shot a not-so-subtle glare at the ANBU agent before he realized what he was doing and immediately stopped.

“I think,” Sakura began with a forceful pat to his chest, “that you’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

Discretely massaging his still stinging hand, he nodded. “Too much for an old man like me,” he said bitterly before he could stop himself. Kakashi decided that it would be best to leave before making an even greater fool of himself. “Walk you home?” he asked.

It was their normal arrangement, which was actually more for his benefit than her own. After all, very few people would risk harassing the powerful kunoichi, and the few that did would swiftly learn their lesson thanks to her fists. Leaving together—often accompanied by suggestive catcalls courtesy of Genma—meant that if he happened to be on the wrong side of buzzed, he wouldn’t wind up as an inebriated heap in an alleyway. In return for crashing on her couch, Kakashi would make breakfast for the two of them. Granted, he was only able to do so when she alleviated his hangover, but still. It was the thought that counted, right?

“Sure, just let me check on Naruto and Genma one last time.”

He was mildly ashamed that he found himself momentarily distracted by the sway of her hips as she walked away. It took a few seconds before he was able to force himself to look away. In his defense, it was a rather hypnotizing sight. There was something oddly alluring about seeing her in heels. That, and the way the black stilettos—the ones that wet dreams, or at least _his_ , were made of—made her rear look even perkier than usual…

Still, he found that he preferred the way she looked in ratty old pajamas with her hair messily up. Maybe it was because that was her usual attire when he was at her place late at night, when their conversations were deeper and more honest than with anyone else. He was always struck by how beautiful she was in those moments, so incredibly strong and vulnerable all at once. It usually left him giving in to the burning need to wrap his arms around her, spilling out the fears and brokenness that only a certain memorial had the same privilege of listening to.

An unwelcome presence broke his reverie. “So, do I pass muster?” Hansa asked, resting his arm on the Copy Nin’s shoulder.

Kakashi felt his jaw clench as he returned the boy’s limb to him. “For what?”

“That unofficial trial that you have to pass in order to date Sakura, where you can’t succumb to the rest of Team Seven’s intimidating presence.”

“What?” he found himself blurting out, taken aback.

Since when had their dismally concealed effort at protecting Sakura’s overly large heart become some sort of local challenge?

“Kakashi, are you coming?” Sakura called out from near the entrance, catching his attention.

She tilted her head to the side in that endearing way of hers and quirked a mischievous, bordering on suggestive, smile. He swallowed thickly, imaging a vastly different and improbable scenario in which she might ask him the same question, wearing nothing but that smile. He headed towards her, determined to remove his mind from the gutter it seemed to have relocated to. Opening the door, he ushered her out with a hand on the small of her back. They left, and Kakashi ignored the eager look aimed at his back that came from a particular ANBU agent.

* * *

 

Sakura hadn’t realized just how stuffy it had been in the bar until she stood in the cool, night air. She shivered as a breeze swept over them. Kakashi must have noticed, since he wordlessly unzipped his flak vest and wrapped it around her shoulders as they began to walk towards her apartment. “Thanks,” she told him gratefully.

“You’ve already commandeered enough of my clothing, what’s one more item to add to the list?”

They both laughed, the noise filling the streets that were otherwise silent in the wee hours of the morning. She snuggled deeper into the oversized vest that was still warm with Kakashi’s body heat, her nose buried in the collar. The medic inhaled deeply, relishing the earthy scent of him that lingered on the material. It was too bad that it inspired her to cuddle similarly close to the man next to her. One that apparently did not share her interest.

While Sakura was comfortable in her own skin—ridiculously short dresses aside—she knew she wasn’t particularly attractive, especially not in comparison to the stunning kunoichi of the village. She couldn’t fault Kakashi for not seeing her in the same light that she viewed him. Sakura supposed that she was just cursed to fall for the most unattainable shinobi in Konoha. Unfortunately, she feared that her feelings for the infamous Copy Nin far surpassed what she had once felt for the last Uchiha.    

There had been a brief moment after their arm wrestling match in which she had thought that perhaps Kakashi _was_ attracted to her, when he had mentioned a roleplaying outfit. Then again, maybe he really did have a thing for medics, after all. Just not medics by the name of Haruno Sakura.

_Pity_.

None of that matter, though, so long as he was happy. Therefore, she wasn’t willing to lose their precious friendship for the sake of unrequited feelings. Unwanted feelings that she was determined to bury. Sakura glanced over at the silver-haired shinobi, taking in the sight of him awash in soft light from the streetlamps. She found herself wondering how he would look in similar lighting without a shirt. If it would highlight the chiseled planes of his chest—

She quickly whipped her head in the opposite direction of Kakashi, horrified at how easily her thoughts had wandered to her best friend stripping down for her.

_What’s wrong your problem?!_

“Are you planning on attending the next knitting club meeting?” she asked, trying to distract herself, “or will I have to drag you to it?”

“I was hoping to transform it into that book club you mentioned a while back.”

“I’m sure that they’ll be thrilled with your… _classy_ choice in literature.”

“ _Our_ choice in literature,” he reminded her.

She shook her head, fighting the smile that wanted to form. “Notice how you didn’t argue that _Icha Icha_ is the embodiment of high literature?”

“It is the pinnacle of literary genius.”

“Oh yes, I can clearly picture you and the knitting circle discussing the hidden themes associated with Jiraiya’s books,” she said, tone heavily laden with sarcasm.

“I happen to think that the novels do contain some interesting philosophic contemplations on what’s truly valuable in life.”

Sakura couldn’t help but burst out laughing, tears forming from the intensity. “I think that the only thing the series advocates for is getting laid.” With the most dramatic, exaggerated tone she could manage, she called out, “oh, fill me, fill me with your mighty sword!”

The medic was overcome by a fit of giggles after quoting a line from _Icha Icha Paradise_. Even Kakashi was forced to muffle a laugh, and if her eyes didn’t deceive her, then she was pretty sure that there was a slight blush staining the skin visible above his mask. The hilarity of the moment was cut short, though.

“Will you quit your racket? This is a family-friendly neighborhood, you should be ashamed of yourself!” someone yelled from a window.

Slapping a hand over her mouth, Sakura ran down the street, Kakashi close behind. The instant that they were outside of the irate citizen’s hearing range, they stopped and found themselves bent over with laughter. After a few minutes, the kunoichi breathlessly exclaimed, “I can’t believe I did that!”

“This is why we can’t take you places,” he told her, amusement evident in his voice.

“I blame you for this!”

Feigning hurt, her companion clutched a hand to his chest. “How is this my fault?”

“You got me addicted to those ridiculous books in the first place,” she snickered.

Kakashi slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his side, much to her secret delight. “Come on,” he told her, “let’s go before you’re arrested for causing a public disturbance.”

Sakura grinned as she wrapped an arm around his waist, filled with an inexplicable lightness as they continued on to her apartment.

 


	7. A Snag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter, hope you enjoy! Also, I always appreciate and love to hear what you think, so let me know :)

It was a rough morning for Kakashi. He woke up convinced that birds had been created by the devil. The feathered hellions perched outside his window screeched their lungs out, refusing to let him die in peace. He forcefully removed his dry tongue from where it was stuck to the roof of his mouth, the accompanying sharp sting jarring him further awake. Hazy memories of the previous night assaulted him. They only made the incessant throbbing of his head worse, forcing a pained groan out of his aching body. It felt as though a tiny Sakura was angrily punching his skull, reminding him of the monumental fool he had been.

_God, I’m such an idiot!_

His vaunted self-control had frayed dramatically at the bar, all but abandoning him. Actually, it _had_ abandoned him at several moments, considering the number of times he’d lost control of his tongue.

Stared rather indiscreetly and lasciviously at Sakura.

Openly glared at the ANBU operative in a public setting.

Groaning again, he buried his face deeper in a pillow, wanting the pressure in his head to magically disappear. In fact, he’d be downright ecstatic if the ground suddenly swallowed him—and his poor life decisions—up for good. Taking into account the improbability of that, though, he would settle for spending the day in bed as an aching, regret-filled semblance of a person.

Luck was not on his side, however, considering that the neighborhood birds—which he would have thrown a kunai at if he could find the energy to grab one—would not relent in their infernal noise. That, and the fact that an inconsiderate Pakkun decided it would be fun to yell directly into his ear. The shout caused the tiny Sakura smacking his head to multiply into an army of irate, pink-haired kunoichi hell-bent on cracking his skull open.

The pain, combined with his already roiling insides, motivated him to scramble out of bed and practically crawl his way to the bathroom. He made it just in time to heave the contents of his stomach into the toilet. The burning in his throat only added to his sorry state. Resting his cheek on the cold porcelain, Kakashi closed his eyes and lamented that even at this miserable moment his thoughts were invaded by the medic. That, and how last night he had convinced her that he would be fine walking to his own apartment. At the time, it had seemed like his only rational decision of the night. He hadn’t trusted himself to not make an even bigger fool of himself and do something they’d both regret if he had spent the night at her place. Now, Kakashi found himself wishing that he had at least taken her up on the offer to filter some of the alcohol from his system. That way he wouldn’t currently feel as if he’d just returned from the grave.

Miserable, he listened to the clatter of nails against tile as Pakkun padded towards him. “Really, Boss?” the pug asked, disappointed.

Kakashi knew that if he looked at his longtime friend and canine partner, he’d be met with a disproving and judgmental countenance. The ninken had told him ages ago to just come clean about his feelings for Sakura. There were just two major problems with that course of action. First, the jumble of feelings he held for her were just that: jumbled. A hopeless mess of emotions that he couldn’t quite identify. He would hate to start a relationship with her only to discover that the bizarre highs and lows he experienced in her presence were simply the result of pent-up and misplaced desire. It wasn’t likely—at all—but the potential risk wasn’t worth ruining their friendship. It was the only thing that kept him grounded and on the right side of sane sometimes.

Which led him to his second concern. When it came to Sakura, he was nothing more than a giant coward. If a relationship between them did come to pass, he was terrified that he’d screw everything up and effectively ruin one of the few bright aspects of his life. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all. Then, there was the far more likely scenario in which she would uncomfortably try to laugh off his confession and their close bond would become strained, and he would effectively lose her. Kakashi feared that that was the most likely case, considering that he didn’t even deserve her in his life, let alone his home or bed.

Sakura was in the prime of her life, while he was nearing the end of that period of his life. Sometimes, it felt as if his silver hair was fitting, considering how aged he often felt inside. There were some stains he could never wash from his hand, far worse than those of even most shinobi. Too many demons resided within him, making him crave the light that Sakura brought with her wherever she went. But, he had no right to be selfish and seek happiness at the expense of her own.

“I don’t see what humans find so appealing about alcohol,” Pakuun commented, taking in Kakashi’s haggard appearance.

“Right now, I don’t either,” he mumbled wretchedly, wishing that it didn’t hurt to think.

Eventually, he found the strength to brush his teeth twice and use enough mouthwash that his mouth felt as if it were burning. Kakashi considered the shower he took a major accomplishment, especially when it managed to make him look slightly more human. Painfully making his way to the kitchen, he opened up the fridge, only to wince at the light that came to life inside of it. The fact that nothing other than a single, wilted leaf of lettuce resided in the fridge made him wince again.

He shot a contemplative look over to where a bag of dog food resided, then shook his head at his desperate consideration. Instantly, he regretted the action as pain exploded in his head. Groaning, he slumped against the fridge, forehead pressed to the cool metal.

“If you end up on the floor, I’m not helping you,” Pakkun said, as he entered the room.

“Thanks,” Kakashi mumbled sarcastically, “I feel so honored to have your unwavering loyalty.”

The pug merely sniffed in response. Knowing that he would continue to feel awful if he didn’t replace the emptied contents of his stomach, he left, ignoring the keys that sat on the counter and didn’t bother to lock his door. With any luck, he would find someone willing—or even unwilling, at this point—to pay for a meal for him.  

As he walked aimlessly around the streets of Konoha, Kakashi lamented that he didn’t own a pair of sunglasses to ward off the overly intense rays of sunlight beating down. He hoped that burying his face in his book would help to hide his haggard appearance. It took him a while to realize that his feet had unconsciously carried him to Sakura’s favorite restaurant. He stopped in the middle of the road, ignoring everyone swerving to avoid him as he cursed himself.

Ducking into the alley behind the establishment, he let his back thud against the brick wall. Taking a deep breath, he tried to clear thoughts of a certain pink-haired kunoichi from his mind.

It didn’t work.

Redoubling his effort, he attempted to lose himself in the brilliance of _Icha Icha_.

That also didn’t work.

Instead, he could only imagine Sakura in place of the novel’s heroine, directing a sultry smile his way. A curtain of pink hair isolating them in their own little world as she hovered over him, beguiling green eyes capturing his undivided attention. Soft, breathy moans punctuated only by cries of his name from her lips—

Slamming his book shut out of frustration, Kakashi turned to leave. Before he could, though, a commotion from farther down the alleyway captured his attention.

 _Guess I have a thing for self-torture_ , he thought wryly as he quickly rethought his decision to hurry off.

* * *

Sakura’s morning had been nearly idyllic. The rosy hues of the rising sun had greeted her as she got out of bed. The streets hadn’t been crowded as she walked through town, listening to the cheerful birds that sang. She’d even gotten the last available table at her favorite restaurant to have a late lunch at. Yet, she still found herself tapping her fingers agitatedly against the tabletop, staring unhappily at her half empty cup of tea. She felt as testy as a hibernating bear being poked with a stick, or Naruto when someone tried to forcibly remove ramen from his grasp.

 _Looks like you found your ideal match_.

Kakashi’s words from last night rattled around in her brain, refusing to leave. He had left before she’d had the chance to say anything. Though, Sakura supposed that she should be grateful for that. What would she have said otherwise? That his assumption wasn’t true because she had developed a preference for silver hair and mismatched eyes over the years?

 _Right, like that would have gone over well_ , she internally scoffed.

Frustrated, she opened the menu laying on the table with more force than was necessary, almost ripping the laminated pages. Having no desire to pay additional fees for causing damage to the restaurant’s property, she settled for sighing and looking out the window. Unfortunately, it lost any and all calming effect the moment that she spotted an oddly familiar figure with dark hair outside.

Hansa.

Not caring about the questioning glances sent her way by the other patrons, Sakura ducked behind the small, decorative floral arrangement on the table. At the bar, he had seemed fairly interested in her, an interest which she didn’t exactly reciprocate. She felt a little bad about that, but hadn’t done anything to lead him on. If friendly conversation—which she had admittedly used to distract herself from the women flirting one-sidedly with Kakashi—had caused him to believe otherwise, that was his fault. Yes, she had recited some of _Icha Icha Paradise_ , but had been maintaining a fairly heated gaze on Kakashi the whole time.

Still, she would prefer to avoid any awkward run-ins with the ANBU operative, particularly ones in which she turned down his advances. He seemed like a decent enough guy, if a tad conceited, but her interest was simply occupied elsewhere. Seeing Hansa head in the direction of the restaurant’s entrance sent a sudden rush of panic through the kunoichi. Scrambling out of her chair, she fished out and tossed down enough coins to cover the tea, thankful that she hadn’t placed her order yet.

She fled to the women’s bathroom, which was the only place Hansa was guaranteed not to go. Once within the sanctuary of the restroom, she clutched the sides of the sink, staring at the mirror above it. “You’re acting ridiculous,” she told her reflection.

That didn’t change the fact that she was hiding from someone that _might_ ask her out, though. Just then, through the flimsy wooden door, the medic heard Hansa’s voice in an indistinct conversation in the small dining area.  

 _Seriously, just go back out there_.

She would handle this like the mature adult she was. She was responsible. She was mature, and—

She threw herself out of the bathroom window.

Or at least she tried to. Sakura managed to fling half of herself out of the opening before something stopped her escape. Struggling, the wall cutting uncomfortably into her stomach, she was unable to free herself. Cursing, she glanced at her waist and saw the taut stretch of her skirt that meant that it had gotten caught on something. It wasn’t until that moment—much to her chagrin as an accomplished kunoichi—that she recognized a familiar chakra signature nearby.

With a rapidly growing sense of embarrassment, Sakura slowly looked out into the alley that the window faced. And there, in all of his untimely glory, was Kakashi slouching against the wall of the neighboring building, _Icha Icha_ book in hand.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she offered lamely, trying to fight the red that was creeping into her face.

“Hm, looks like your current situation is a bit of a… _pane_ ,” he replied, amused if his eye crinkle was any indication.

And just like that, her mortification abandoned her, replaced with frustration. She slapped a hand against the brick exterior of the building, ignoring the crumbling chunks that fell to the pavement below. “Unbelievable,” Sakura hissed, shaking her head. “What are you doing here?”

With a falsely innocent expression, he raised his book slightly. “I thought it was obvious that I was enjoying some light reading.”

“I meant why are you reading in an alley, _this_ alley in particular, of all places?” she demanded to know, voice rising.

“Oh, you know, it’s a great place to _hang out_ ,” he drawled, his amusement poorly concealed.

“Kakashi,” she growled, “when I get my hands on you—”

“We should go somewhere a bit more private before you start feeling me up.”

Sakura felt her face heat, though she wasn’t sure if the flush was due to ire or thoughts of doing exactly what he had suggested. How the heated skin and chiseled planes of his abdomen would feel if she slipped her hands underneath his shirt—

_Knock it off!_

She took a deep breath, lips parting in anticipation of furiously yelling at Kakashi for his suggestive remark. Then, a voice interrupted her oncoming tirade.

“I’m looking for a woman,” came the confident voice from near the opening of the alleyway.

And in that instant, the reason that she was stuck dangling out of a window came dangerously close to finding her. The placement of the bathroom’s window meant that Sakura could not see the entrance of the alley, and she hoped—fervently—that Hansa could likewise not see her. She froze, refusing to make any noise that would draw the ANBU agent’s notice.

“Aren’t we all?” Kakashi ask with disinterest.

She watched as he turned his attention back to the orange book in his hand and casually moved out of her line of sight. Sakura realized that his movements would shift Hansa’s focus away from where she was stuck. Gratitude flooded her.

“I’ll give you hint, she has pink hair.”

 _I have a name_ , she thought bitterly, rolling her eyes.

The ANBU operative continued, “I could have sworn that I heard her out here.”

“No, sorry,” she heard the silver-haired shinobi reply. “The only thing that ran by earlier was a stray cat. Very ill tempered. Wasn’t much of a looker, either.”

And just like that, all of her earlier gratefulness for Kakashi’s presence fled.

 _Idiot_ , she silently fumed.

As soon as she got out of this predicament, she was going to make the renowned Copy Nin regret ever opening his mouth. The rest of the conversation that the infuriating man held with Hansa was lost to her, as the two had wandered farther away and their words became indistinct chatter to her ears. Eventually, Kakashi returned alone and with an obnoxious amount of levity. 

“Nice of you to wait for me.”

“Not like I had much of a choice,” she bit out dryly, less than amused at his chipper tone. “Now, help me get down from here.”

“I don’t know,” he replied, tapping his chin in mock contemplation, “I think that I prefer you this way.” At her questioning look, he continued, “it’s easier to be outside your range of attack.”

“ _Kakashi_ ,” she warned.

He gulped nervously, before saying, “right, I’ll get right on that.”

He strode over to where she was. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on whether she chose to listen to the deviant voice in her head—the height of the window made it so that her chest was eyelevel for the silver-haired shinobi. Too bad he was more of a gentleman than most would expect, considering that he didn’t even sneak a single peek at the gaping V-neck of her vest top. The medic succeeded in refusing to internally fume about that fact.

Mostly.

 _Not like I have much there to interest him with_ , Sakura thought sullenly.

Realizing where her thoughts were heading, she tried to redirect them to more appropriate topics. It proved difficult, though, thanks to his close proximity. Though, due to his nearness, she noticed that he looked exhausted. The medic in her became concerned, though that concern lessened dramatically as soon as she suspected what his ailment was.

“What snagged?” he asked, peering curiously at her.

“I don’t know. Something on my skirt, I think,” she replied, wriggling futilely for emphasis.

“Well,” Kakashi began with a slight smile, looking her in the eyes. “I’d like to apologize in advance for feeling you up in such a public place.”

She swatted the hand that he held up apologetically.

“Just hurry up and get me down from here,” she muttered, fighting a blush. “I’d prefer it if no one else witnessed my predicament.”

Sakura watched with some amusement as he tentatively raised a hand to where her middle was slumped over the open window. During her futile efforts to free herself earlier, her top had ridden up. Now, as he tried to find what had gotten caught, she felt his fingers skim along the bottom edge of her shirt. The kunoichi found herself hoping that he would slip his fingers underneath the material, tracing designs onto her skin. Her thoughts turned to the pleasant way it would feel if Kakashi continued his explorations further up to her chest, where her evident reaction to his ministrations were thankfully hidden by her bindings. Or, better yet, if he were to guide his hand lower, caressing her hip and the curve of her backside before delving between the apex of her thighs—

Eyes widening, she was roused from her decidedly non-platonic imaginings as Kakashi grazed the thin swath of her exposed stomach. Though she tried to suppress it, an involuntary and choked laugh escaped from her. Her gaze shot up to meet his.

“Oh,” he said lightly, “I must have forgotten that you’re ticklish.”

The mischievous glint in his eye declared otherwise.

“Right, just like I forgot that you hate it when your _Icha Icha_ poster is precariously close to falling into a river,” she retorted.

It turned out that her snarky comment was a mistake, considering that he then proceeded to take advantage of the fact that she was trapped and unable to escape the sudden onslaught of tickling. Unable to help it, Sakura laughed and shrieked, the noise resounding in the alley. Thankfully, he stopped before the oddly pleasant sensation could border on painful.

“That was just plain cruel,” she stated breathlessly.

“I learned from the best, considering that I took a page from your book.”

“One time,” the medic said, rolling her eyes. “It was only one time that I threatened your precious poster, and you’re still sulking.”

“I could leave you here, stuck in a window, to fend for yourself…” he trailed off, moving away.

“No!” she blurted, grabbing hold of his flak vest and forcibly hauling him back to her. “Please, I take it back. I’ll never make fun of your poster again if you get me out of here.”

“That’s more like it,” Kakashi told her, his signature eye crinkle making a reappearance.

That damn eye crinkle that always made her want to press a gentle kiss to the crease before trailing them down for a more heated one on his lips.

Despite her best efforts, she found herself unable to completely steer her thoughts in a different direction. As his hands settled on her hips, she tried to deny the thrill that ran through her, but failed. Sakura was glad that her training as a kunoichi prevented any outward sign of her internal struggles from showing.

“Sorry about this,” Kakashi announced, before yanking her out of opening in the wall.

Or, rather, he tried to.

“Oof.”

The sound came from the medic as her stomach landed on the window frame heavily. She was sure that there would be a bruise there later, but at least she could heal the damage done to her embarrassed self.

“Hm,” Kakashi ventured, looking more closely at the window. “I’m pretty sure that one of the straps on your skirt are caught on something.”

“Can you loosen them so I can slip out of my skirt?”

“We’ll see.”

As he slid the adjustable straps on her skirt through their metal fasteners, Sakura couldn’t help but envision a _vastly_ different scenario in which the silver-haired shinobi removed her clothes. Especially when he gripped her hips again, this time underneath the slackened skirt that she wore over a pair of shorts. The warmth of his hands seemed scalding. For a brief moment, she could have sworn that she felt his thumb draw circles on her hip. Then again, it was most likely just wishful thinking on her part.

_Am I imagining things?_

But then there wasn’t any time to continue her wondering, since the Copy Nin chose that moment to haul her a little too successfully out of the window and her skirt. Apparently, it had taken much less effort than he had assumed to remove her, considering the ease with which Sakura was practically yanked up and into the air quicker than she figured was expected. Kakashi took a hasty step backwards, trying not to fall as he caught her.

Frantically trying to prevent herself from sailing through the air, Sakura tightly grabbed onto the first solid thing that she could reach. Unfortunately for Kakashi, that meant that his face ended up buried in her chest when she threw her arms around the back of his head. That, and she had reflexively wrapped her legs around his torso, just under his arms. It took her a few seconds to realize the position that they found themselves in.

Quickly loosening her arms from around him, the medic pulled back slightly, his arm around her back preventing her from toppling to the ground.

“Sorry,” she blurted, feeling a blush creep up her face.

Kakashi cleared his throat, a suspiciously similar shade of red visible over the edge of his mask. “Don’t worry about it,” he told her.

Sheepishly, she released the silky strands of silver hair that one of her hands had been anchored in. Relaxing some of the tension in her legs, she intended to remove herself from his person. However, she ended up sliding further down his toned form to his waist. It was entirely accidental—contrary to what the voice inside her head claimed.

“Eep,” the kunoichi eloquently stated, snatching back her hand that had somehow come to rest on his chest.

She practically leapt away from him at that point, while some devious part of her lamented the fact that she was willingly abandoning the perfect opportunity to paw at Kakashi and his phenomenal physique. Meanwhile, the man in question grabbed the back of his neck, indicating the awkwardness of the situation. “So,” he began hesitantly, “how do you plan on getting your skirt back?”

“What do you mean?” Sakura asked as she whirled around to face the window. “I’ll just…” Her voice trailed off when she saw that the window had slammed shut in the process of removing a medic sized obstruction from it. Striding over to the blasted contraption, the kunoichi tugged on it, but it apparently had become locked from the inside. “Oh, um, would you mind getting it for me?” she inquired as sweetly as possible.

“But I’d have to go into the women’s bathroom,” Kakashi protested.

She shot back, “everyone already thinks of you as a pervert, so it’s not like any damage would be done to your public image.”

He clutched his chest, proclaiming, “I’m truly hurt.”

The twinkle in his visible eye belied his words. “Just go,” she told him, rolling her eyes.

Yet, the silver-haired shinobi remained in place, arms crossed recalcitrantly. “I don’t know,” he said, “I’m comfortable right here.”

Sakura decided to use a different tactic of persuasion. “What if Hansa is still there?” she pleaded. “I’d rather not run into him.”

For some reason that seemed to motivate the Copy Nin to leave to retrieve her skirt. Not too long after, she heard a tapping coming from the closed window. Turning, she saw Kakashi wave comically before opening it. “Hello, Sakura,” he greeted, arms resting on the windowsill, “fancy meeting you here.”

“Knock it off,” she giggled, “and hurry up before someone sees you.”

“What happened to everyone already assuming that I lurk around women’s bathrooms?”

“I’d prefer it if they didn’t have confirmation of that, especially since I know for a fact that this is a rare exception.”

“Aw, I’m touched,” he told her. “You think that I’m a decent person.”

“Yeah, well, the jury is still out on the state of your sanity,” she quipped, smacking him lightly on the chest as he straddled the opening in the wall.

Throwing his leg over the windowsill, he jumped down. Whipping forth her skirt, he held it in front of his waist, posing. “Is it a good look for me?” he asked jokingly.

Giving in to the smile tugging at her lips, Sakura told him, “I think it looks better on you than it does on me. You should invest in a wardrobe change.”

“Well,” he said, handing the medic her skirt, “I don’t know about that, not to mention I doubt that my wallet could handle that kind of spending spree.”

Laughing, she donned the skirt before linking an arm through his, leading the silver-haired shinobi back to the street. She felt incredibly lighthearted, her downcast mood from earlier all but forgotten. Sakura decided to temporarily ignore that the man walking beside her was both the remedy _and_ source of her initial frustration in favor of simply enjoying his company.

“I take it that the worst of your hangover has passed,” she announced, breaking their comfortable silence.

“I can suffer through it,” he replied pitifully, “but I think that sustenance would help.”

Sakura gave him a flat look in exchange for his cajoling one. “For someone who survives by fobbing off food payments onto others, you’re terrible at begging.”

“I feel so attacked.”

“But,” she continued, pretending to not have heard him, “since my meal was…interrupted, I suppose that we can eat together if you want.” As if on cue, she heard an audible growl come from his stomach. “I guess that settles that, then.”

* * *

Walking alongside Sakura through the streets of Konoha, he had to admit that he felt much more at ease than he had earlier in the day. It wasn’t just because the medic had alleviated the pounding in his head, either, though it had certainly helped. Instead, Kakashi had the ever-growing suspicion that her presence was the cause. It was more than a suspicion, actually, but he would rather not dwell on the implications of that.

A bag of takeout from Ichiraku hung from his wrist, since the ramen stand’s limited number of stools had all been occupied. Glancing to his right, he noticed that Sakura was twirling a lock of hair distractedly around a finger. It was something she was prone to doing when she had something weighing on her mind. He decided to make things easier on her, asking, “what’s bothering you?”

“Last night you seemed…a little off,” she ventured softly. “Are you alright?”

Tamping down on his surprise, he shot her a smile, only the crease of his eye visible over the mask he wore. “Perfectly,” he told her.

_Absolutely not._

He was a mess. Kakashi wished that he could blame last night’s actions on the alcohol, but it wouldn’t be true. Especially now that he was decidedly more sober and had all but chased Hansa away less than an hour ago. Once out of earshot from Sakura, he had firmly convinced the ANBU operative that the medic was unavailable and would be so for the foreseeable future. The words had spilled forth before he had realized what he was saying, but he found that he had no regrets. Although, lazily toying with a kunai might have been overkill…

“I guess that being so _old_ means that I can’t keep such late hours,” he said under his breath, still sore about her age comment.

“Kakashi, is that honestly bothering you?” Sakura asked incredulously as she stopped walking. He shrugged, not meeting her eyes. This merely prompted her to continue, saying, “I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a joke.”

Refusing to let her see how the jibe about his age had affected him, he continued walking. Every time he thought about their age difference, it reminded him of how inappropriate many of his thoughts regarding the pink-haired kunoichi were. That, and the fact that she didn’t have similar, less than innocent thoughts about him.

He listened to her rapid footsteps as she caught up to him. “Kakashi, I’m the one who’s performed all of your most recent physical exams. Believe me when I say that you have nothing to feel insecure about. You’re in great shape and put most of the shinobi in Konoha to shame.”

Sakura ended her little motivational speech by patting him on the chest. Try as he might, Kakashi couldn’t help but feel some pride—along with mild embarrassment—swell inside him, as her words soothed his bruised confidence. He scratched the back of his neck, fighting a blush for the second time that day. “While I appreciate your reassurances, I never knew that checking out one’s patient was considered professional behavior,” he told her teasingly, quirking a brow.

The medic scowled, claiming, “remind me to never repair your ego in the future.”

He laughed as they reached their preferred training grounds, settling down at the base of a tree. After handing Sakura her share of food and utensils, they commenced their meal, talking in between bites of food. Their conversation eventually turned to his beloved book series.

“Come on, you have to admit that it was farfetched,” Sakura argued.

Kakashi leaned against the trunk of the tree behind him, eyes closed as he felt a smile appear underneath his mask. Life was…good, undeniably so. “I beg to differ,” he replied, enjoying their banter.

“Really?” she asked, arching a brow dubiously. “You’d let me tie you to a tree and have my way with you.”

_Oh, absolutely, all you have to do is ask._

He was rather proud of the fact that his voice was steady when he spoke. “I think any man would, especially if that particular scene was being recreated,” Kakashi retorted as indifferently as possible.

If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that the expression that appeared on Sakura’s face was one of interest. Unfortunately, he _did_ know better—or at least thought he did—which made her words all the more surprising.

“Care to test your little theory?” she asked far too innocently for what was in question.

_Oh god, yes!_

He answered instead with an ambivalent, “why not?”

It was too bad that he ruined the languid air he was trying to portray by clambering to his feet far too quickly, some of his enthusiasm showing. Thankfully, Sakura merely laughed, setting aside her empty takeout container and standing up at a much more subdued pace. He took in the devious light in her eyes as she neared him. Kakashi felt as if he had willingly walked into a trap, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Her hands came to rest on her hips, chin lifting authoritatively as she stopped scant inches away from where he stood. The Copy Nin found himself fighting a grin, the concentration on her face as she recreated an _Icha Icha_ scene adorable in his opinion.

“You keep refusing treatment,” she quoted, her voice taking on a sultry quality that he had never known she was capable of. He was sure that her tone would haunt his dreams for years to come. She pulled a roll of bandaging gauze from a pocket, continuing with, “as a result, I find myself forced to use drastic measures.”

He compliantly gave her his wrists when the medic reached for them, finding his love for _Icha Icha_ suddenly growing. Kakashi couldn’t muster up any hesitation when she restrained his wrists with the chakra reinforced cotton. That should have been alarming, but he was too busy relishing the intensity of her gaze to care. She fastened the remaining length of gauze to a low-hanging branch, his arms hoisted up above his head.

“If you promise to be a well-behaved patient, I’ll give you a lollipop,” the kunoichi told him.

With a suggestive tone, he asked, “if I’m naughty do I get a different sort of treat?”

“Well,” she said, fighting an obvious smile as she trailed a finger down his chest, “that all depends on how—“

While the heated words had made him more thrilled than they should, he had to admit that it was when Sakura burst out laughing at how awkward she felt and briefly buried her face in the crook of his neck as she tried to control her laughter, that his blood truly heated. More than that, he felt an odd, tender feeling flare to life within him. It wasn’t the tantalizing lines penned by Jirayia, but her presence that affected him. He knew then that he had been lying to himself for a while now, perhaps even for years. It wasn’t that he couldn’t identify what he felt, it was that he refused to admit it.

However, he couldn’t keep denying that he had fallen in love with Sakura at some point over the years. Not to himself, at least, but he still planned on taking his secret to the grave. She deserved far better than him.

“That bad, huh?” he inquired lightly, ignoring the tightness in his chest as he silently acknowledged that he might be the biggest fool to have ever walked the earth.

She glanced up at him with a broad smile, eyes shining with mirth. Her breath tickled his chin through his mask. He watched as the medic’s amusement abruptly fled, replaced instead by awareness and something else. Kakashi was too much of a realist to think that the other emotion flitting across her features was that of longing. It appeared as if she had just recognized her close proximity to him.

“Kakashi,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his.

He could easily drown within their beautiful depths. More than once, all it had taken was one glance at them when they were laden with emotion to divest him of the rationality he prided himself on. This moment was no exception, and he found himself not caring about the regrets that were sure to follow if he allowed her to indulge him in his selfish desire to close the distance between them.

Her lips parted slightly, hands tentatively coming to rest on his cheeks, fingertips curling into the edge of his mask. Kakashi didn’t dare to breathe, not wanting to dispel this moment and have it be revealed as merely a dream. She leaned forward ever so slightly, eyes closing as he barely ducked his head forward to bridge the miniscule distance between them. Kakashi wished that he could uncover his sharingan, so that this moment might be forever ingrained in his memory. He felt her begin to slowly pull his mask down as her lips—

“Is this what the book refers to when it mentions ‘bondage’?”

Kakashi cursed himself for not noticing their intruder’s presence as the woman before him jerked away in a startled panic.

 _Shit_.

Off in the distance—but still far too close for comfort—stood Sai, observing them with that blank curiosity of his. “I read that some individuals prefer to maintain control during int—“

“Sai!”

He was rather glad that a furiously blushing Sakura interrupted the artist’s blunt commentary. Kakashi found some enjoyment in watching as the pink-haired kunoichi chased down Sai, angrily threatening the fleeing shinobi. He tried to convince himself that he was relieved, but all he felt was frustration at the interruption. That, and a sense of loss as he was left bereft of Sakura’s warmth.

Alone, he found himself dwelling on what their teammate had brusquely disrupted. Sakura had skimmed her lips against his fabric covered ones. It had been brief—incredibly brief, nearly to the point that he wasn’t entirely sure that it had actually occurred—but it had still been enough to cause an involuntary shiver to run through him.

Sighing, the silver-haired shinobi tugged on the gauze securing his wrists. To his rapidly rising concern, it seemed that Sakura had reinforced the bandaging material a little _too_ well. He leaned back, forcing all of his weight against the restraints, but to no avail. Just then, a returning team of shinobi passed by the training grounds, giving him curious looks. He would have waved casually in an attempt to regain some of his dignity at being found leashed to a tree, but that wasn’t possible at the moment. His predicament left him unable to leave unless Sakura remembered how she had left him or someone took pity on him.

Kakashi was decidedly _not_ amused.


	8. A Splash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, here we go. Also, thank you so much to everyone who commented, really made my day. As always, I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

As she reluctantly woke up, Sakura was uncomfortably aware that she was overheated. Shifting restlessly, she plucked at the shirt that was practically plastered to her skin, courtesy of the sheen of sweat covering her. As she kicked her confining blankets away, she realized that the cotton fabric of her panties was decidedly damp, and for an entirely different reason. Groaning in frustration, she buried her face in her pillow.

Unfortunately, the action did little to help clear her mind of the remnants of her dream, so she rolled over to glare at her literature of choice resting on her nightstand. In hindsight, reading the rest of the green novel before falling asleep had been a terrible idea. As a result, she had been plagued by _Icha Icha_ inspired dreams. Dreams in which she and Kakashi replaced the main characters of the series and reenacted some of her favorite scenes.

Her gaze drifted from the offending book to the alarm clock sitting behind it.

“Shit!” the medic swore, eyes widening as she scrambled out of bed.

Precious seconds were wasted as she fought with the sheets and blanket tangled around her legs. She hastily pulled her hair away from where it clung to her neck, securing it into a messy ponytail with a hair tie that had been around her wrist. From there, Sakura shucked her shirt and underwear in order to take the quickest cold shower in the history of modern plumbing. Wrapped in a towel, she simultaneously brushed her teeth while frantically trying to find clothes to wear. Finally finding a clean pair of scrubs, she continued to curse as she tugged on her pants before running out the door. And, the slew of creative swearing she spat as she ran back inside her apartment to grab her shoes would make even the most seasoned ANBU operative blush.

As she all but ran to work, she lamented that the perpetually tardy Copy Nin had managed to make _her_ late even when he wasn’t around. She decided to ignore the precise way in which he had been responsible for this, though. Eventually, she hurried through the doors of the hospital, hoping that she did not look nearly as frazzled as she felt.

The medic was thankful for the seemingly endless stream of patients, though. Throwing herself into her work allowed her to ignore all thoughts of Kakashi. Thoughts that included the way he had gazed at her yesterday as if she were the loveliest thing in his world. As if she were his one desire in life, but so far out of reach to the point of being unobtainable. The sight of it had been seared into her memory, making its reappearance in her dreams…

 _I’m doing it again! And, I’ve clearly been reading too much_ Icha Icha _if that’s where my mind wanders._

She shook her head, trying to ignore the direction that her thoughts were taking. Glancing down at the medical records in her hands, Sakura realized that she didn’t remember anything that she had just read. Granted, she was now doing paperwork in her office, but she still couldn’t afford to let her mind wander. Mistakes weren’t something that could be afforded when it came to her patients’ health. Looking over at the clock that hung on the wall, she decided that it would be best if she took her lunch break early.

Sakura found herself at Ichiraku’s for the second time in as many days. She blamed Naruto’s seemingly contagious obsession for her less than healthy dietary choices of late. Still, she was more than happy to hastily slurp down the addictive—and sodium laden—ramen noodles during her short lunch break. That, and enjoy a moment of peace and quiet after the first half of her hectic shift—

“So, care to tell me how exactly you managed to catch the oh-so elusive Hatake Kakashi?”

And just like that, the relaxing moment vanished in an instant. Sakura spewed broth across the clean counter, her pleasant mood plummeting the second she heard those overly saccharine words.

_Oh no._

And just like that, all of her renewed efforts to not think about a certain silver-haired shinobi that had been starring in her dreams of late went out the window. The fact that he had mentioned that he had a _gift_ for her a few days ago hadn’t helped with anything other than providing her with more fantasy fodder. Though, knowing him, the _gift_ was most likely a meal that she would end up paying for on behalf of both of them.

Hesitantly, she turned to face Ino, removing any traces of guilt from her expression. “Very attractive,” the blond commented with a grimace, wiping away a stray drop of soup that had landed on her face.

Clearing her throat, the pink-haired kunoichi sent an apologetic glance at Teuchi for dirtying his ramen stand before returning her attention to her friend. “What are you talking about?” she began as innocently as possible, thankful for her shinobi training as she fought the overwhelming urge to fidget. Or the instinctual impulse to flee. “I didn’t catch anything, except maybe some additional annoyance for him.”

“Really?” Ino asked flatly, arching a brow. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that the two of you have been having pillow fights whenever he spends the night at your place?”

The pink-haired medic laughed nervously, considering that that was _exactly_ what they had done. Well, once. Kakashi had complained that being smacked by a pillow shouldn’t cause one’s ribs to be at risk of fracturing. Sakura was of the firm opinion that everyone else held back too much when it came to pillow fights. That had been followed by Kakashi attempting to smother her with one of the pink pillows from the couch after she had insulted his precious literature. Still, the first unspoken rule of movie night was to not talk about movie night with others.

“Naruto still crashes at my place some nights,” she told Ino blandly, forcing herself not to react outwardly. Actually, all of her teammates had a tendency to invite themselves into her apartment when they were in need of medical attention, or just wanted to raid her fridge. “Are you going to be suspicious about that, too?”

“Oh please,” the blond muttered dismissively, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Hinata has him wrapped around her finger, she just doesn’t realize it. Now, Kakashi on the other hand rarely socializes with anyone apart from the occasional night out at the bar. The exception to his habit for avoiding people is you.”

“Ino,” she said, sighing in exasperation. “We’re friends and teammates, nothing more.”

That she wished otherwise was not important. Her friend shot her a dubious look, letting the medic know that she wasn’t convinced. “That’s not what I heard. Sai said that he saw the two of you in a rather _interesting_ position.”

 _I think Sai needs to be reminded about the importance of keeping his mouth shut_ , Sakura thought darkly, cracking her knuckles.

Though, she supposed that she should be grateful for the artist’s interference. If he had not shown up at such an inopportune— _timely_ , she tried to convince herself—moment, she might have crossed the line between platonic friendship to something more with a certain silver-haired teammate. Who was she kidding? If it wasn’t for the interruption, she _definitely_ would have tugged down Kakashi’s mask and kissed him in full view of any passersby. Hell, she might have done more than kiss him, going as far as Kakashi would allow her. And considering that he had let her command him to strip down to his boxers while in a park…well, they might have ended up arrested for public indecency.

_The only indecent thing about him is how ridiculously attractive he is._

And, just like that, her thoughts veered off without her permission again. It would be a minor miracle if she managed to get through this conversation with Ino without the blond realizing that something was up. She finally understood Shikamaru’s urge to think of interacting with anyone and everything as troublesome.

* * *

 

Kakashi rotated the wrench one last time, tightening…something. He had to admit that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but at least the pipes of his sink seemed to have stopped dripping. He decided that while laying on his back, half on his kitchen floor and half in the cabinet beneath his sink, was as good a time as any to rest his eyes. That momentary peace was ruined when a drop of water plopped onto his forehead. Sighing, he opened his eyes and halfheartedly tightened the _something_ again.

Satisfied that the dripping had indeed been ended this time, he sat up only to smack his head on the wooden frame of the cabinet. Sighing, he rubbed the injured area and went back to stirring the contents of the pot on the stove. For well over a year now, he and Sakura had made a habit out of having dinner together once a week when they were both in the village. They alternated whose apartment they met at, and this week the honor fell to him. Normally they would simply order take-out, but he had the feeling that Sakura’s only source of food lately had been from a ramen stand that was revered as holy by a certain blond shinobi. It wouldn’t hurt for her to have an actual home cooked meal.

Of course, his train of thought led him to think about what had occurred a few days ago at the training grounds. He still hadn’t been able to get over the feeling of being robbed due to Sai’s interruption. By the time Sakura had returned from chasing her wayward teammate, Genma had sauntered up out of nowhere, as if he had an innate talent for catching the silver-haired shinobi in embarrassing situations. The senbon expert had taken in the sight of him struggling against the chakra reinforced bandages before directing his attention to the flustered medic. “You can always tie me up,” Genma had offered suggestively.

Kakashi had been less than thrilled at the other man’s words. In fact, he’d been so incredibly _not_ thrilled that he’d managed to break the branch he was tethered to in a rare fit of desperation. Even now, while in his kitchen, the Copy Nin shuddered at the thought of almost having to suffer through seeing Genma flirt with the pink-haired medic. The leering shinobi’s presence had put a bit of a damper on the whole experience for Kakashi.

Though, much to his surprise, he had to admit that under other circumstances—namely ones in which curious teammates and amorous colleagues were absent—he would rather enjoy being completely at Sakura’s mercy. At least, he figured that he would if his dreams from the last few nights were any indication. Trying to redirect his wayward thoughts proved more difficult than he would have liked.

 _Knock-knock_.

He heard the rapping on the door, but didn’t bother to do anything other than continue to stir the contents of the pot, knowing that she would let herself in. And sure enough, Sakura walked through the door and then closed it, putting the set of keys to his place back in her pocket before taking off her shoes. “Something smells good,” she announced, and he listened to the rustle as she shed her coat and hung it up near the door.

He glanced over at her, taking in her hastily pulled back hair and the blue scrubs she wore. He knew that she preferred to wear her typical mission clothing along with a lab coat when she was at the hospital, so her appearance could only mean one thing. “Did you have a late start this morning?” he asked.

She refused to meet his eyes as she mumbled, “something like that.”

 _Interesting_.

For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out the reason for her odd behavior, but decided to ignore it for now. He set the wooden spoon to lean against the edge of the pot, making sure it didn’t fall in. Walking across the room, he grabbed a package laying on a bookshelf, before heading back towards her, trying to hide his excitement.

* * *

 

“Ta-dah,” he announced with a flourish as he handed over a nondescript, brown paper bag that she knew was from Lucky’s Adult Emporium. Rolling her eyes, she passed Kakashi the much more colorful bag in which the medic had placed his own gift. The bright blue bag was decorated with paw prints and did a much better job at hiding the fact that the contents inside had been purchased from the same dubious store.

It was with an embarrassing amount of undisguised glee that Kakashi tossed aside the tissue paper in the bag and pulled out his new boxers, the fabric of which featured quotes and cute little depictions of the main characters from the _Icha Icha_ series. Though she pretended that she was exasperated when he held them in front of himself and declared that they were now his good luck charm, she couldn’t help but think that he was adorable in his enthusiasm. Then again, his enthusiasm was for a cutesy pair of novelty boxers based on what amounted to written porn. Considering that she had been the one to buy them for him, though, Sakura didn’t think that she had any grounds to criticize him.

Now that Kakashi was done gushing over his gift, she reached a hand out to open her own. Just as her fingers reached the paper, a suspicion entered her mind. She snatched her arm back as if burned, pointing a stern finger at the silver-haired shinobi. “Kakashi,” she all but growled, “if this is that _Icha Icha_ themed vibrator, I swear that I will beat you to death with it!”

“I don’t think that Lucky’s gives refunds if an item is a murder weapon,” he said blithely as he lifted up the boxers in his hands to admire them some more.

Considering that he wasn’t cowering in fear, she was content that the bag didn’t hold what she feared it might. Reaching inside the bag, she felt fabric. Shooting one last cautious at Kakashi, she pulled out a pair of underwear. She had to admit that the bikini-cut panties decorated with _Icha Icha_ logos were surprisingly sedate. Or, at least they appeared to be so until she turned them around.

Sakura cleared her throat.

“How classy,” she muttered sarcastically.

The back of them proclaimed one thing in bright, red letters: _kiss this_.

“I saw them and thought of you,” Kakashi explained cheerfully.

“Really?” she asked, arching a dubious brow. “Suggestive panties made you think of me?”

“I never got you anything for your birthday last year since I was away on a mission.”

“And you thought that underwear was an appropriate gift?”

He gave her a pointed look, tapping his chin in mock contemplation. “What’s the old saying about a pot and a kettle?” he asked rhetorically.

Admitting defeat, she claimed, “fair enough.” Too bad this wasn’t one of those instances where she could claim that great minds thought alike. Still, she grudgingly conceded—silently—that her gift was growing on her. The cheery, yellow pair of underwear was surprisingly cute. “Thank you,” she said softly as she pulled him into a hug, their similarly themed underwear squished between them, “I really do like them, but let’s never mention this to anyone.”

“Well, there goes my plans for showing off my new boxers to the whole village,” he teased, chuckling lightly.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the rumbling vibrations of his laughter against her cheek and the way the arm he had around her shoulders squeezed her tightly against his lean form. Reluctantly, she pulled away and severed the close contact far sooner than she liked. The pitter-patter of little canine feet drew both of their attentions.

“Hi, Pakkun,” the medic said as the pug made an appearance, padding over to sit next to her.

Taking the hint, she scratched him behind the ears. After cheerfully greeting her, he asked, “did you make those peanut butter treats again?”

Hearing Kakashi sigh in exasperation, she looked over at him. “You can’t ask her that every time you see her. Especially since you see her almost every day,” he lightly berated his ninkin.

“I don’t mind,” Sakura countered, glancing back at the pug. “I just haven’t had the time to bake recently.”

Pakkun quietly muttered what sounded suspiciously like, “I know who to blame for that.” She decided that it was an odd sight to see the contemplative look that the dog shot at the silver-haired shinobi before he spoke again, more audibly this time. “Could you put Boss out of his misery? All he ever talks about is you—”

She watched in mild confusion as Kakashi lunged forward, shoving a dog treat that he had seemingly pulled out of thin air into Pakkun’s mouth. Sakura sent the man a questioning glance, to which he replied with his nervous habit of grabbing the back of his neck. “Here, since you always complain that I don’t give you enough treats,” he told the pug, avoiding her gaze.

She waited until the ninkin was across the room and lying down on the couch before turning to Kakashi, asking, “what was that about?”

“Nothing,” he told her. She had her doubts, especially when she watched him grabbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “Guess that I’m just hungry.”

Sakura went about asking him what he had done today, deciding that if something was still bothering him later, she could “pry” it out of him later—he’d never admit that he needed to talk about what was bothering him. As they talked about their respective days, in which hers had been a busy day at the hospital and his had revolved around reading his favorite orange book, she began to set the table for dinner. As she rummaged around in a drawer for eating utensils, she mentioned, “as much as I love Ichiraku, I’m glad that we’re eating in tonight.”

Looking over her shoulder, she shot him a smile as she took in the sight of leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “I thought that you needed an actual meal,” he told her.

“Don’t let Naruto hear you insult his precious ramen,” she said with a laugh before glancing over at the food cooking on the stovetop. “It looks good,” she told him, “I can’t wait to eat.”

Then, hands on her hips, she stared at the dreaded plates that resided in the cabinet. She swore that Kakashi had moved them up to the top shelf a few years ago just to watch her struggle. Refusing to climb on the counter—that was reserved for days in which she was too fed up to care about her dignity—she shot the Copy Nin a glare before standing on her tiptoes, hoping in vain that her arm would reach. She’d never been able to touch the top shelf, let alone grab anything from it while standing on the floor, but that didn’t stop her from hoping for a small miracle. Arm straining, her hand met with nothing but air. She blew a strand of hair off her forehead in frustration, knowing that she’d either have to drag over a chair to stand on or wait for Kakashi’s amusement with her short stature to die down.

 _Frustrating man_ , she thought with mild annoyance.

She sent a much more dangerous glare in his direction, trying to ignore the way his tight black sleeveless shirt stretched across his defined chest.

 _Frustratingly attractive man_.

Hastily turning back to face the cabinetry, she resumed her futile attempt while trying to ignore the devious voice in her head that claimed she’d much rather sample _him_ than the food. It was a losing battle, and she was suddenly caught between the counter and the heat of him, his hands resting on either side of her on top of the counter. “You know what else looks good enough to eat?” he whispered heatedly into her ear, stirring a few strands of pink hair.

Her breath caught.

The man behind her reached up to grab something from the cabinet with ease, pressing more fully against her in the process before he deposited dishes into her grasp. With unsteady hands, she placed the bowls on the counter a little too forcefully. She winced at the resulting _clank_ , not wanting to dispel the decidedly sensual air of the moment.

 _He doesn’t mean it_ , she fervently warned herself.

But, despite knowing that the words he had spoken were straight from the pages of _Icha Icha_ , Sakura could not prevent herself from leaning back and against his chest more fully. His earthy scent—cinnamon, clean sweat, and _Kakashi—_ invaded her senses as she soaked up the warmth of him. It was literally the fuel of her fantasies, and the intimate imaginings of her earlier dreams flooded her mind in all of their vivid glory.

Cloth covered lips skimmed the shell of her ear, sending the slightest of shivers through her. She waited, breathless with anticipation for him to continue the quote, knowing what was to follow.

“ _You_.”

Neither of them noticed when Pakkun vanished in a cloud of smoke, quietly muttering, “it’s about damn time.”

She had been left feeling unfulfilled since waking up from a dream featuring a certain silver-haired shinobi, only to discover that she was running late. Since she had not been able to take care of her… _problem_ earlier that morning, Sakura couldn’t help but respond. At least, that was what she tried to convince herself of as she pressed closer to Kakashi, eyes closing. If she had been in the right frame of mind to do so, the medic likely would have silently cursed how sensitive she was courtesy of her rushed morning. It was almost ridiculous how responsive she was to even the lightest of touches at this point. She bit her lip, containing a low moan as one of his arms wrapped around her stomach to tug her closer, while his free hand clasped the curve of her hip.

“Sakura?” he asked quietly.

“Hm,” she replied, desperately wanting his hands to wander more.

“I think,” he said, voice sounding slightly hoarse, “that I just won the bet.”

* * *

 

Kakashi smiled as she struggled to reach the bowls sitting in the cabinet. He knew that she had her suspicions that he had moved them to the top shelf on purpose, and the medic was absolutely correct. It always brightened his day when he saw her on her tiptoes, desperately stretching her arm in hopes of reaching dishes. Sometimes, if Sakura wasn’t feeling particularly careful with his cheap dishes, she would jump a little in order to grab hold of whatever item she needed. Other days, she would climb onto the counter so the dishes would be within reach. The lengths that she would go to in order to obtain the proper dinnerware was adorable, in his opinion.

Today, his amusement at her expense seemed to have backfired on him. He found himself transfixed by the thin expanse of smooth skin that was exposed as the bottom of her shirt rode up as she tried to reach the top shelf. He forced his gaze away from the enticing sight with relative ease. After all, it was the woman as a whole that drew him like a moth to flame, as he found himself craving her bright presence whenever she was away for more than a few days. And, it was seeing just how utterly at home she was in his apartment, along with every other aspect of his life, that finally did him in.

His rigid self-control, which had been dramatically wearing thin in her company more and more, finally up and fled. He would stop in an instant if she was anything but receptive, of course, but until that moment he would give in to his selfish desire to be closer to her. All it took was a single step in his small kitchen to reach her.

Planting his hands on the countertop, he cradled her body between his own and the cabinets below. He leaned in closer to quote _Icha Icha Violence_ , eyes closing as he inhaled and filled his lungs with the delicate floral scent of her hair. Though they weren’t his own words, he meant every single one of them. He heard her voice hitch, clear as day, and it sent a thrill through him to know that he affected her as much as she did him.

Then she relaxed further into him, and Kakashi found it hard to tamp down on the hope that she would allow him to continue further. He couldn’t help himself from caressing the curve of her ear with his covered lips, a mockery of a kiss, as he craved to be closer still. He finished quoting his beloved book.

Once more succumbing to selfish desires, he encircled her with his arm, pulling her soft yet toned form, full of lethal grace, until she was flush against him. He closed his eyes, relishing this moment in which she allowed him to tug her against him, wrapped tightly in his arms. He was sure that in a few seconds he would feel her stiffen and he would try to laughingly play this off. As long as his actions did not royally screw up their friendship, he would be okay with whatever was to come. Despite not being materialistic, he suddenly realized that he was a greedy man after all, since he found himself longing for the ability to embrace her like this in the future.

Savoring how perfectly she fit against him, he trailed his free hand down her side until his thumb slid inside the waistband of her pants to lazily stroke the smooth skin underneath. She let out the slightest of gasps, nearly imperceptible, but his ears caught that wonderful sound. And then, an alluring, musky scent that could only mean one thing flooded his sensitive nose.

A heady sensation filled him as he came to the realization that he held her in his thrall as much as she did him. A lightheaded, almost giddy feeling came over him, a high that only she was responsible for. Softly, he murmured that he had won their bet, wanting to give her an out if she needed it. Before he ruined the friendship that was so precious to him. But she didn’t pull away, and he couldn’t think about anything other than how _right_ this felt.

He hardly dared to breathe as she turned in his arms, her hands coming to rest on his chest. He was sure that she could feel the furious pounding of his heart underneath where one of her hands rest. Then, one of the hands that he so adored came up to grasp the edge of his mask. When she hesitated from going any further than that, he laid his own hand over hers, tugging down the fabric together.

“Kakashi,” she whispered, and he felt her gaze roam over his bared features before returning to meet his own heated gaze.

They were so close that even the slightest of movements would bring their lips together. He found himself getting lost in her eyes again, drowning in the jade depths, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about everything that might go wrong. Especially as they darkened with desire. He stared at her, carefully looking for any sign of hesitancy on her part, until…

He didn’t know who had bridged the final, scant gap between them, and he didn’t care.

All that mattered was that Sakura—lovely, talented Sakura—was in his arms, and his lips were finally on hers.

The light, barely-there kiss against her soft lips was quickly deepened as they both sought something more substantial. He couldn’t help but delve deeper into the warmth of her mouth, having craved this for far longer than he was willing to admit. He wrapped a finger in the thick hair at her nape, tugging lightly. Sakura sighed into his mouth, practically melting into him.

As he pulled her even closer, forcing her onto her tiptoes, he felt one of her arms wrap around him, hand splayed on the expanse of his back. When her free hand buried itself in his hair before tugging lightly, the slight edge of pain merely increased his hunger for her. Time slipped away from them, but eventually Kakashi was forced to pull away for air.

His lips moved to the juncture of her jaw and neck as he listened to Sakura drag oxygen back into her lungs. She released a breathy little sigh as he laved attention on her skin, causing him to smile as he continued his attentions. The silver-haired shinobi enjoyed the warmth of her skin and the way her pulse fluttered delicately underneath his lips. He slipped his mouth down further, lightly biting the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“Kashi,” she gasped unevenly as he soothed the area with his tongue.

“Hm?”

“I’m wet,” she blurted out.

He smiled against her warm skin again. “Are you now?” he murmured huskily.

“No, I’m literally wet. I think your sink sprung a leak.”

Once the meaning of her words penetrated his foggy thoughts, he snapped out of his Sakura induced haze. Sure enough, as he reluctantly removed his lips from the woman in front of him and peered around her, he saw a small spray of water coming from the pipes he had been tinkering with. The water pressure caused it to aim directly at Sakura’s back.

“Sorry,” he began, trying to hide his embarrassment as he gently moved her away from the range of the water. “Let me just—”

The small spray of water suddenly became much larger as something gave in the section of pipes that he had been tinkering with. It was as if a hose had suddenly been turned on them, and Sakura gave a short shriek as the blast of water first hit them. He fought to keep the pressurized water out of his eyes as he ducked down and scrounged around for his seldom used toolbox. Before he could even attempt to fix what was wrong, Sakura had yanked the tools out of his hands. “Absolutely not,” she said as sternly as someone being doused in water could look, “you’re the reason this happened in the first place.”

* * *

 

After peeling off her soaked clothing and hanging them on the shower rod, she reached for the folded stack of Kakashi’s clothes. Tugging on the standard issue shinobi pants, she soon discovered that they had trouble not falling down. In the process of hiking them back up, she felt something odd. Reaching into one of the pockets, she pulled out a dog biscuit. “That man,” she said with fond exasperation, shaking her head as she replaced the ninkin treat back to where she had removed it from for lack of a better place for it.

After tightening the drawstring and rolling up the legs of the pants, she slipped on the long sleeve shirt. For once, she didn’t feel guilty as she took a moment to bury her nose in the fabric and inhale the comforting scent of Kakashi. She made sure to wipe the idiotic grin from her face before exiting the bathroom, though.

But, as she carefully stepped around the wet towels on the floor and headed towards the silver-haired shinobi, an anxious feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, churning uncomfortably. What if he claimed that it had been a mistake? What if—

“Sakura,” the source of her bout of nerves said once she was within arm’s reach, “did you happen to shrink by any chance?”

She silently scolded herself for her ridiculous worries, even as the unsettled sensation she had experienced fled as quickly as it had appeared. This was Kakashi, after all, her closest and dearest friend. The man she knew better than herself. He would never have kissed her if it hadn’t meant something to him. She just had to figure out what that tentative something between them was.

Propping one hand on her hip, she slapped him with the floppy excess length of sleeve with her free arm while he laughed. “I can’t help that I’m short,” she retorted, lifting her chin to glare without any heat at him.

“I know,” he told her soothingly, amusement obvious in his eyes. He rolled up the sleeves of the shirt she was wearing to find the hands that were hidden within. The quick kiss that he placed on her forehead made her idiotic smile return. “I wouldn’t have you any other way. Except,” he began tentatively, refusing to look away from the floor, “maybe we should consider being something other than just friends.”

Worries that Sakura didn’t realize she still had suddenly disappeared for good as she was filled to the brim with happiness. “Good,” she told him with a bright smile she had no control of, “the same goes for you. Though I also wouldn’t mind you being a little less of a cheapskate. Then accidental flooding of your apartment wouldn’t occur.”

Laughing lightly, they both turned to look at his entire collection of towels strewn across his kitchen floor to help soak up the water that had been sprayed everywhere. Nestling closer to him, the kunoichi was glad when he took the hint and wrapped his arms around her. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you learned to fix sinks,” Kakashi mentioned.

She pulled back slightly so she could see his face. “The academy teaches kunoichi much more than flower arrangement, you know? Besides, at least now we’ve established that you’re the superior knitter, and I make a much better plumber.”

“I have a pipe that you can check out,” he said with a—dare she call it—lascivious grin.

She laughed, remarking, “now I know why you quote _Icha Icha_ so much. Your flirting without Jirayia’s indirect help is terrible.”

“Say what you will, but I do believe that you owe me something.”

Sighing, she let her head fall against his chest. “I really lost, didn’t I?”

“You really did, and I’m _really_ happy about that. If I had lost, you might have made me walk through the village in my boxers again.”

“One time,” Sakura teased, rolling her eyes. “I forced you to do that one time, and you’re still complaining. Just tell me what awful thing you’re going to blackmail me into doing.”

“You know, Lucky’s sells a replica of Himitsu’s outfit,” Kakashi suggested with a decidedly predatory grin.

She thought of the infamous scraps of purple lace and silk that the _Icha Icha_ heroine was known for wearing…admittedly, she was intrigued, but the medic didn’t dare let him know that. At least not yet. “Absolutely not,” she stated blandly, hiding the fact that her interest had been piqued.

“Don’t worry,” he told her with that eye crinkle of his, “I have something else in mind.”

“What?” Much to her dismay, he merely shook his head. “Tell me,” she demanded a bit more forcefully as a flood of _Icha Icha_ inspired punishments flooded her mind.

Some were more favorable than others. “It’s a surprise,” he told her.

His words didn’t exactly help stem the trepidation growing in her. “I don’t like surprises,” she complained.

“But you like me,” he said. She raised a brow at that, and he quickly amended himself, “hopefully.”

“I don’t make a habit out of fixing sinks for men I don’t like,” she teased.

Just then, her stomach decided to emit a long-winded growl. Feeling heat rising in her cheeks, she looked back at Kakashi, amusement clear on his face. “Guess that means it’s time for dinner,” he told her as he released her from his arms and headed back to the stove, stepping over the sodden towels on the floor. “Or not,” he amended, tugging up his mask as he looked down at the unsalvageable remains of their dinner.

“I guess we’re getting take-out, after all,” Sakura said sadly. “So much for eating a home cooked meal.”

* * *

 

The sight of her wearing his clothes—the sleeves and pants rolled up so she wasn’t drowning in the excess fabric, the hem of the shirt reaching her mid-thigh—was adorable. There was no other way to describe it. The warm feeling in his chest seemed to agree with his opinion. “Are you sure that you want to go outside like that?” he asked, secretly hoping that her answer would be affirmative. “I can always bring food back here, if you want.”

“Relax, I know that this is practically going to be a walk of shame, but without the night of _Icha Icha_ inspired debauchery,” she said with a laugh.

With a less than innocent smile, Kakashi offered, “that can easily be remedied.”

“Your altruism is overwhelming,” she claimed sarcastically, playfully shoving his chest. He pretended to fall back, only to lean back towards her, as if drawn by a magnet back to the lovely medic. “Besides, I actually have a washing machine and dryer at my place,” Sakura continued, “whereas you’re too cheap to invest in them.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? The owner of the laundromat down the street loves me.”

The sweet, elderly woman often allowed him to use her facilities free of charge. He thought that it might have something to do with the fact that she was friends with Mrs. Ito. He would have to continue attending his neighbor’s knitting club meetings, especially since there were free refreshments. It didn’t hurt that he not so secretly adored the woman.

_Maybe I can convince Sakura to attend with me…_

The sound of nails against tile distracted him from his train of thought. He watched as Pakkun padded up to them, before the pug sat on Sakura’s foot. “I think you have something for me,” the ninkin claimed as he sniffed in the general direction of her pocket.

Kakashi was a bit confused until he watched the medic fumble for the pocket of the baggy pants she wore, revealing a dog treat that had been inside.

_Ah, that’s from…_

Actually, he had no idea why he had stuck that in his pockets in the past. He scratched his head, trying to come up with a logical answer for the unspoken question that Sakura asked with her curious eyes. It was with a critical eye that he watched Pakkun wolf down the treat with far more fervor than was necessary for something that he was sure was stale and tasted like lint.  “If you keep downing treats like that, you’ll get fat,” Kakashi commented drily.

Sakura quickly kneeled down and covered the pug’s ears with her hands, hissing, “don’t tell Pakkun that.” She comforted the ninkin after releasing him. “Ignore him, he’s just grouchy because his precious porn almost got ruined.”

Pakkun, the traitor, shot him a smug look from under the hand that Sakura was stroking him with. In retaliation for his favorite medic siding with his dog, Kakashi commented, “it’s _erotica,_ and a series that you seem to have taken a liking to.”

He had to admit that seeing her blush was a pleasant side effect.

“Regardless, I wouldn’t break down in tears if they were threatened by water damage,” the kunoichi replied with a prim little sniff, neither confirming nor denying her penchant for the series.

“I’d prefer to not bear witness to your perverse influence on Sakura,” Pakkun interrupted, shaking himself after getting off of her foot.

“You know,” Kakashi stated, clutching his chest in an overly dramatic manner, “I’m offended that you think I’m a negative influence.”

He noticed that Sakura wasn’t saying anything in his defense. Carefully, he nudged her side with his elbow. Finally, she turned to face him, a mock glare on her face. “You _are_ a negative influence,” she said flatly, “I was late to my shift this morning. Thanks to your interference, I now also hold a certain fondness Jirayia’s books, though I doubt it will become the unhealthy obsession that you have.”

He would proudly take full responsibility for the latter. As for the other issue… “How was it my fault that you were late to the hospital?”

“You—” she cut herself off, an endearing blush spreading on her cheeks.

“I what?” he prompted, enjoying the sight of her being more and more flustered.

He actually had a pretty good idea of how he had contributed to her tardiness. After all, he’d had a similar late— _later_ than usual—start this morning himself. Still, the Copy Nin couldn’t help but tease her. Leaning over, he whispered into her ear, “let me know when you want that dream to become reality.”

“How did you…” Sakura trailed off as he shrugged. A contemplative gleam entered her eyes, one that warned him to be wary of what the devious little kunoichi would say or do next. “Kashi,” she began, closing the distance between them with a suddenly more pronounced sway to her hips. He knew in that moment how a hare felt moments before it was eaten, but he couldn’t wait to be caught. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

He had to suppress the urge to shiver at the husky quality to her voice and the heated look in her gaze. The Copy Nin settled his hands at her waist, having a hard time with comprehending that this was actually occurring outside of his dreams. “Oh, I have lots of things that I want to tell you,” he told her, “starting with—”

“You two have an unfortunate tendency to forget that I’m in the room,” Pakkun interrupted gruffly, leveling a stern look at Kakashi. “Keep your paws to yourself, or I’ll tell her all of the embarrassing stories from when you were little.”

And just like that, Kakashi felt heat rise in his own cheeks, and his confident manner suddenly transformed itself into the typical awkwardness he felt around nearly everyone but a select few individuals. It didn’t help that his closest companion—his supposedly loyal canine best friend—had threatened to tell all of the embarrassing stories from when Kakashi was young to the exceptionally pretty medic that he liked. More than liked, if he were being honest with himself.

The mood of the moment had been lost, but Kakashi couldn’t bring himself to care too much when he heard the sound of Sakura’s laughter that he loved so much. Turning to his ninkin, he asked teasingly, “do we have your approval to go get food?”

“I don’t care what you do, as long as I don’t have to see or hear _this_ again. Just as long as you two don’t have puppies anytime soon.” Kakashi was sure that both he and the kunoichi in his arms were blushing furiously. “Then again,” the pug ventured, turning his weighty gaze to the silver-haired shinobi, “you are getting up there in years, Boss.”

Feeling defeated, he dropped his forehead to rest on Sakura’s shoulder, even as she laughed. “I feel so attacked right now,” he mumbled with false hurt.

Patting the hand that he had around her middle, she consoled him with, “don’t worry, I still think that you’re plenty handsome. I’d probably think you’re even better looking if you pay for dinner for once.”

Chuckling, he released her as she began to gather up her belongings. He rummaged around in the kitchen drawers until he found a plastic bag to dump their wet clothes in before going to grab them. As he exited the bathroom, he was greeted by the sight of Sakura holding Pakkun, stroking the paw that the ninkin had offered her as the two quietly conversed. It was something that he looked forward to seeing more often. He smiled as he strode over to the pair, stroking the pug’s head while he dropped a kiss on Sakura’s forehead.

“Ready?” she asked, taking in the plastic bag he had hanging from his arm.

He felt her curious gaze follow him as he grabbed the discarded bag from Lucky’s. “One second,” he said, heading towards his dresser.

Glancing over his shoulder, he made sure that she was distracted with setting Pakkun down on the floor before he swiftly grabbed tomorrow’s surprise from a drawer and hid it in the brown paper bag. Kakashi was met with a suspicious look when he returned, clutching the bag to his chest. “On a scale of one to ten, how much will I dislike the contents of that bag?” she asked.

The silver-haired shinobi paused for a few moments, pretending to contemplate his answer. “Outwardly, about an eight. Secretly,” he said, leveling a knowing smirk at her, “I think that you’ll love it, so it should really only be a one.”

The medic huffed, but being the elite shinobi that he was, he didn’t miss the amused look she quickly hid. If there was one person he knew well, it was Sakura. While she might be a little hesitant at first about her “punishment”—a term he used very loosely—he knew that she would quickly warm to it, once she got over her initial shyness. It was that same occasional bout of shyness that he found was an endearing contrast to her fiery temper and utter confidence when immersed in her role as a medic.

“Bye, Pakkun!” she called, tugging on her coat and waving to the pug as they left the apartment.          

Soon, they were walking the streets of Konoha, the sun just beginning its descent. As they meandered towards Sakura’s apartment, they debated where to pick up dinner from. Peering out of the corner of his visible eye as he pretended to read the book in his hands, Kakashi noticed that very few people reacted to Sakura wearing what were obviously his clothes. Other than one or two stares, no one seemed to think anything was unusual. Granted, it most likely had to do with the fact that all chunnin level or higher ranked shinobi owned the same standard issue uniform that she wore, sans vest. Still, he had expected a bit more of a reaction.

When they stopped at a stand to purchase some yakisoba for dinner, some of the other patrons smiled in their direction.

 _Interesting_.

He decided to consider the matter more fully at a later time, considering that at that moment Sakura was shooting him a pointed look. Fishing out enough cash from his pocket to pay for the food, the Copy Nin handed it over to the owner. He had to admit, it felt strange paying not only for his own meal, but someone else’s as well. Still, he couldn’t manage to feel anything other than pleased with the recent development of things.

After Sakura grabbed the takeout, they headed towards her nearby apartment complex. Conversation flowed easily between them, the same way it had for years. Before he knew it, they stood in front of her building. Suddenly feeling hesitant around her for the first time in a long while, Kakashi froze and considered whether or not he should return to his own place now or after eating. Though they had been teasing one another about it, he wasn’t sure whether or not Sakura was ready for him to spend the night. Spend the night for something other than watching movies or the rare occasions he had ended up passing out on her couch, that was.

“You know, I was planning on modeling that gift you got me.”

He froze, his thoughts veering off in pleasant directions as reality and his personal fantasies collided.

_Dear god, how did I ever get so lucky?_

Sakura peeked around the doorway she had just entered to look back at him, an alluring—mischievous might have been a better description—light in her eyes. Imploring jade green eyes that Kakashi had long since learned he was powerless to resist. “Coming?” she asked.

He felt what must have been a decidedly wolfish grin stretch over his lips as he stalked after her. “ _You_ certainly will be soon enough,” Kakashi promised.

* * *

 

The sun had long since set as Sakura lay in bed, trying to catch her breath once again. She’d had multiple opportunities already to be thankful that Kakashi was a man of his word. Glancing over at him, she found her silver-haired lover in a similar position. “I think you killed me,” he groaned, flinging an arm over his eyes.

The laughter burst forth from her before she could help it. She likewise couldn’t resist the smile that formed as he tenderly brushed away the strands of hair that clung to her damp forehead. “What?” he asked, not quite understanding the amusement that met his words. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just a vow that I made a while back,” Sakura replied, still smiling as she placed a placating kiss on his lips that easily became more heated than intended. “Besides, you’re awfully talkative for being one of the dearly departed.”

Growing chilled as the light sheen of sweat that covered her dried, the medic snuggled closer to Kakashi’s warmth, resting her head on his—delightfully sculpted—chest. “Well, I was hoping that my favorite medic would deem me worthy of being resuscitated,” he said lightly.

“Just,” she began drowsily, yawning before continuing, “as soon as I take a quick nap. I think you wore out your medic.”

“Careful,” Kakashi warned teasingly, “you might inflate my ego if you keep saying things like that.”

She laughed, then sighed in contentment when he wrapped his arms around her. As he pressed a kiss to her hair, Sakura couldn’t help but wonder why she had spent so long fighting something that felt so utterly right.


	9. A Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank everyone who has read this story that I started on a whim, hopefully you enjoyed it. Anyway, for those that are interested, I’m planning on writing a short companion piece to this (a sequel/prequel type thing), along with some other things with a Kakasaku pairing. Well, here is the last chapter, let me know what you think. I hope that you enjoy!

 As the late morning sunlight streamed in through the window, Kakashi gazed down at the woman lying peacefully in his arms. Her hair was an utter disaster, tangled and ticking out in every direction like a pink explosion.

She was the loveliest sight he had ever seen.

All that warmth and strength and passion, her larger than life personality, wrapped up in such a tiny package with intelligent green eyes. Eyes that were currently shut as she blissfully slumbered the day away. Unfortunately for him, that also meant that she was oblivious to the fact that the arm she was sleeping on top of had long since fallen asleep.

Deciding to wake her, he lightly rubbed his stubbly cheek against hers while pulling his arm out from under her, needles of sensation stinging his limb as he moved it. Moments later, her nose twitched adorably as her eyes opened sleepily. “Kashi, stop,” she said with a laugh, “that tickles!”

“Does it now?” he asked, a smile warming his tone as he merely continued what he had been doing.

After a few moments, he ceased his actions, and her lighthearted giggles similarly subsided. Sakura turned on her side, facing him. He tucked her hair behind her ear, trailing his fingers down to her jaw. In as serious a tone as he could manage, he asked, “are we not going to talk about the fact that you have novelty condoms decorated with kunai?”

“What? I teach sex ed at the academy, don’t judge.”

And, like the incredibly serious people they were, they dissolved into laughter, his forehead pressed to hers. He was about to press his lips to hers for a kiss when she interrupted. “I don’t think that I can do this,” she said softly.

Kakashi pulled back abruptly, and he swore that his heart stopped briefly. “What?” he bit out gruffly.

The cold panic that had swiftly taken up residence within him was dispelled when the medic shot him a teasing smile. “I’m not sure if I can handle being with someone prettier than me,” she clarified.

He rolled off of her, falling back onto the mattress in relief. “You,” he declared, “are a terrible person. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

But the moment that she rested her warm hands on his chest, right above his racing heart, and placed a quick peck on his bare cheek, he knew that he had already forgiven her. “I’m sorry, that was cruel of me,” she laughed.

“Besides,” he grumbled, “I’m pretty _and_ ruggedly handsome.”

“Alright, you’re pretty _and_ ruggedly handsome,” she conceded as she leaned over the edge of the bed, presumably searching for clothes.

Apparently the first article Sakura found was his shirt, slipping it on before attempting to leave the bed. Wrapping his arms around her middle, he tugged her back onto the bed, closing his eyes as he burrowed them under the covers. “It’s too early to get up,” he mumbled into her hair.

He felt a playful slap against his chest as she laughed again. “You’re the one that woke me up in the first place.”

“Only out of concern that I couldn’t feel my arm.”

Just then, his stomach growled loudly. “You were saying?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, amusement obvious in her eyes.

He reluctantly rolled out of the warm bed with a dramatic sigh, resisting the urge to wince as his bare feet touched the icy floor. “I suppose that I should eat something other than you,” he drawled, his back to her as he searched for his pants. He couldn’t help but chuckle when he dodged a flying pillow with looking, hearing a muffled, “well, no one’s forcing you to.”

Kakashi, tugging his pants on, turned to face her. He was met with an adorable sight. Sakura stood before him, drowning in his shirt that hung down to her thighs, the red scarf he had knitted wrapped around her to resemble his mask. “Ah,” he told her, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her close, “now I see why you call me pretty.”

Her eyes held a delighted look as he tugged down her make-shift mask for a kiss. Eventually, they made it to the kitchen, having the takeout that they had never gotten around to eating last night for breakfast. In between flinging noodles at one another and actually consuming the food, their conversation flowed as easily as ever, broken only by their laughter. Now that he thought about it, he’d laughed more in the past few hours than he had in years. At least, those years prior to the last few, in which he and Sakura had become close.

Once they were finished eating, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek before heading to the washer and dryer. He then proceeded to wash the dishes with a smile that he was convinced might become permanent. “Kakashi,” he heard her call from the other side of the apartment. “Did you wash my clothes last night?”

“Yeah, they should be in the dryer.”

It didn’t take long for him to hear her walk back into the kitchen. Setting down the plate he had been rinsing, he dried his wet hands on a towel as he turned to face her. “Let me guess, since you only own uniforms, you forgot that you can’t wash whites with reds, right?”

She had something pink dangled from her fingers. It took a few seconds for him to realize that she was holding the bandages he used to secure his kunai pouch to his leg. “Uh, maybe?” he offered sheepishly, self-consciously grabbing the back of his neck.

He thought about the other articles of clothing that he had tossed in the washer. Though, judging by her amused expression, she hadn’t yet discovered the now pink items that he had secretly tossed in with the other laundry. He finished drying the dishes while she brought the rest of the clean clothes into the bedroom to fold. It was with eager anticipation that he waited for the kunoichi to discover his spoils of the bet. Kakashi happily set aside the dish towel he’d been using when he heard her yell his name in disbelief. He was powerless to prevent the grin that took over as he followed her into the bedroom. “What’s this?” she demanded, waving around a pale pink shirt that had originally been white.

“A shirt.” At her unamused stare, he quickly amended his dry statement. “Consider it your punishment for losing the bet.”

He had to hold back a chuckle when he saw the horrified glance she shot at the clothing. “I thought you were implying something else, not matching shirts!” He shrugged in response, trying to hide just how much he was enjoying this. “No,” she said flatly.

“Yes.”

“I’d like to change my answer and role play as Himitsu, instead.”

His thoughts momentarily derailed as his mind conjured up enticing images of Sakura wearing a certain scanty outfit. Taking in the sight of her suddenly smiling face and shining jade eyes, he found himself having difficulty resisting her, something she was damn well aware of. And, while he would be more than happy to laze around in bed all day with her, he wasn’t about to inform Sakura of that fact just yet. She’d use that knowledge to get out of her public announcement of her love for _Icha Icha_.

“And I plan on holding you to that,” he said, clearing his throat, “but that wouldn’t really be much of a punishment, now would it?”

The heated look he gave her caused a slight blush to spread on her cheeks, sending smug satisfaction through him. The medic held the t-shirt disdainfully in front of her. “Kashi,” she complained with a tempting pout that he would love nothing more than to kiss away, but then she’d know that she held the advantage here.

“Well,” he began, grabbing his half of the _Icha Icha_ themed couple’s shirts, “they’re not that bad.”

The glare that Sakura directed at him claimed otherwise. That, and the dramatic way she flung herself onto the bed. He couldn’t contain his laughter at that, but it was short lived as he drew a deep breath, bracing himself for the words he was about to say. “Would it help if I said that I love you?”

The brevity of his tone belied the nervous churning of his stomach. The fact that she was silent, face buried in a pillow, didn’t do much to stem the growing panic within him. “Sakura…” he began hesitantly.

Worried that he had ruined everything by admitting it too fast, despite it being the truth for a few years now, he nervously waited. “Damn it, now I have to wear that ridiculous shirt, don’t I?” she asked, turning to face him, pouting.

Kakashi was sure that his sigh of relief was audible all the way in Suna.

* * *

While reclining on the bed, Sakura came to a conclusion. The Copy Nin, wearing nothing other than pants that rested dangerously low on his hips, was a distracting sight.

 _Incredibly_ distracting.

She watched, arrested, as he lazily stretched his arms above his head. The flex of muscles within his biceps—and everywhere else—was…captivating, to say the least. It didn’t help that her eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the silver line of hair that bisected his lower abdomen. And lower, as thoughts of last night—and earlier that morning—merely made her hungry for more. She shook her head in a vain attempt to clear her heated thoughts. “Go put a shirt on, or we’ll never be able to leave,” she ordered.

Of course, this only prompted Kakashi to pause in his actions of picking up said shirt to direct a cocky grin in her direction as he ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “See something you like?” The tone of his voice was not helping her think of anything other than pulling him back into bed. “Besides, you’re not exactly helping things yourself,” he told her.

She glanced down at herself, clad only in his shirt as she lay on her back. The kunoichi was decidedly pleased that she could elicit the same reaction from him that he could from her. She caught the pink shirt he tossed towards her reflexively, her elated mood dimming ever so slightly as she was reminded of what exactly her “punishment” consisted of.

_Nothing like a little bit of impending public humiliation to kill the mood._

With an exaggerated sigh, she left the bed to search for panties and a bra to wear. A brand-new pair of large, pink socks with a shuriken pattern rested on the top of her dresser. She tossed them to Kakashi, knowing that he would catch them. After fishing around in a drawer, she found a navy pair of uniform pants to tug on. All that was left was to pull on the dreaded shirt. The pale pink top—which she suspected had originally been white—proclaimed “he’s my Hiro” in reference to the main male protagonist of the book series. A large _Icha Icha_ logo rested on the back.

She turned to face Kakashi, who was similarly dressed. “Only you would use a confession of feelings as a means to blackmail someone into publically announcing their appreciation for _Icha Icha_ ,” she grumbled without any real bite.

“It worked though, didn’t it?”

He walked over to her and they gazed at themselves in the mirror that hung on the wall. She secretly admitted that they looked adorable in their matching outfits, the only difference being the mask and tilted hitai-ate that he wore. “Only because I love you, too, you idiot,” she told him softly **.**

When she glanced up to see his reaction, Sakura was met by eyes widened slightly in shock before a subtle, pleased expression entered his usually impassive face. “Thank god,” she heard him mutter.

The utter warmth in his eyes prompted her to kiss him. When they finally parted, she removed her hand from where it had tangled in his hair. The medic laughed from within the confines of his embrace, admitting, “that was cruel of me to not tell you sooner.”

“Unnecessarily cruel,” he agreed.

She glanced down at his shirt, which read, “she’s my Himitsu.”

“So, you’re saying that I’m the busty blond of your dreams?” she asked, gesturing to his shirt.

“No, I’m saying that you’re the lovely and talented pink-haired kunoichi of my dreams,” he told her, pausing to tap the diamond seal on her forehead. “A kunoichi that could punch me and my fragile bones through a wall if she wanted to.”

“Good answer,” she said with a smile, rewarding him with another less than chaste kiss.

Eventually, his forehead rested against hers as he asked softly, “are you sure you’re not disappointed? I’m not exactly your tall, dark, and handsome model of perfection.”

“Kakashi,” she reassured, “I _love_ you. Besides, has it ever occurred to you that sometimes reality is better than fantasy?”

Any uncertainties now stripped away, she reveled in the heat that entered his eyes when she licked her lips, his own lowering to meet hers. His hands slipped under the hem of her shirt, and the medic couldn’t help but draw in a sharp breath at the delightful sensation of his calloused hands skimming across her bare skin. Before she realized it, the back of her legs thudded against the bed. With a frustrated groan, she tore her mouth from his, dropping her head to rest against his chest. “If we’re going to leave the apartment, we need to do it now,” she stated, ignoring how out of breath she sounded.

“Are you sure that you want to wear these in public? People will realize what happened.”

Something within her warmed at the concern that had crept into his voice on her behalf. She squeezed his arm with a smile “I’m sure. Besides, half of Konoha already thinks we’re sleeping together.”

“I think it’s actually more than half, considering how people reacted to you wearing my clothes last night.”

“Well, regardless, if they have a problem with us, then screw them.”

“I’d prefer it if you only screwed me,” he told her wryly with a faint smirk.

Sakura couldn’t help but laugh. “I think that can be arranged,” she told him as they headed to the door of the apartment.

The instant she set foot on the streets of Konoha, she began to regret not taking the out he had offered her. Her change of mind—and embarrassment—probably had something to with the not so subtle stares they were on the receiving end of. But, judging by the occasional snicker, it was due to the fact that the pair of them were wearing _Icha Icha_ shirts, not that they were admitting to being in a relationship. That, or some of the pedestrians found the sight of the infamous Copy Nin decked out in pink to be hilarious.

Oddly enough, the kunoichi felt more trepidation walking around her village in a ridiculous shirt than she normally did while on covert missions in enemy territory. She glanced over at Kakashi, who seemed to be enjoying himself. As they strolled around the village, Sakura finally getting her mortification under control, they happened to pass by Lucky’s. While she determinedly avoided looking at the store’s flashing neon sign, he asked suggestively, “want to pick out a new toy together?”

Furtively looking around to see if anyone had overheard him, she was relieved to see that no one had. “Absolutely not,” she hissed. “It’s broad daylight, anyone could see!”

“So…when the streets are less crowded, it’s fair game?” he asked far too innocently considering the topic being discussed. He took her lack of outright denial as a prompt to continue. “I get a frequent customer discount.”

“Why? Because you’re the only one who purchases their _Icha Icha_ merchandise in bulk?”

“Exactly.”

The kunoichi couldn’t help but laugh. Eventually, they wandered over to Ichiraku, deciding to eat after walking around for a while. Teuchi winked when he saw the two of them, proclaiming, “it’s about time.”

The medic felt herself blush against her will, while Kakashi merely smiled in response. Just as their orders were set before them, a certain Hokage candidate pushed through the flaps of the stand’s entrance. Considering where they were, they shouldn’t have been surprised. But, in the instant it took for Kakashi to tug his mask back into place, she watched as the cheerful look Naruto had changed into one of shock as he took in the sight of their matching outfits. She opened her mouth to speak, but the blond cut her off before she had the chance. “ _What_!” he shouted. “Why didn’t anyone tell me sooner?”

He slammed a hand down on the counter, and she watched as the broth in the ramen bowls came dangerously close to spilling. The fact that Naruto didn’t even notice that the wellbeing of ramen was threatened made it clear more than anything else could that he was upset. “Calm down, Naruto,” she said, raising her hands in a placating manner. “We were going to tell you, but we were just waiting for the right—”

“Not that. Everyone knew you two would end up together. I’m mad that these two idiots,” he said, pausing to drag their dark-haired teammates in from outside, “waited until this morning to tell me about the betting pool going on.”

“Betting pool...?” Sakura trailed off, confused.

“About when you and that pervert,” he paused again, this time to point at Kakashi, who feigned hurt, “would finally get together. I could have made a fortune!”

Sakura had been dreading informing Tsunade about her and her former sensei making things official, but now the medic had the sneaking suspicion that the hokage had been the one to start the betting in the first place. Still, she wasn’t sure what surprised her more. That Naruto wasn’t upset by their relationship, or that he had actually predicted that they would end up together. “The idiot was oblivious to how close you and Kakashi were until we explained it to him,” Sasuke explained drolly.

Ah, that explained it.

They all ignored the blond shinobi as he yelled at the Uchiha for calling him an idiot, having long since become used to their squabbling. “In order to determine the winner of the bet we need to know the date and approximate hour of the first time you two engaged in inter—”

Sakura glared and pointed a menacing finger at the artist at the same instant that Naruto slapped a hand over Sai’s mouth in an effort to prolong his life expectancy. “Don’t make her angry,” the blond whispered none too quietly, “we already have to let Granny Tsunade know that she lost the bet.”

_Suspicions confirmed._

She watched as the trio left with an excess of insults and shouting—the later coming only from Naruto. Yet, Sakura couldn’t help but smile at their antics. They were a part of her family, after all. Her incredibly eccentric and equally deadly family of shinobi possessing a surplus of social ineptitude.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head as she turned back to face Kakashi. Seeing the empty bowl in front of him, she realized that he had used the others’ distraction to scarf down his meal. “Unbelievable,” she repeated.

“Did you want me to wait?” he asked with false innocence.

“I still can’t believe that everyone placed bets about us getting together,” the medic mentioned in between bites of her meal. She stopped to make a face, chopsticks held aloft. “Never mind, I can definitely imagine Tsunade doing that.”

He looked pointedly at her shirt before adding, “I think you might have inherited her terrible luck at betting.”

She laughed. “Rude.”

“I know,” he agreed cheerfully, discreetly taking her free hand in his own, hands hidden beneath the counter.

After she finished eating and had paid for their meals, the kunoichi tugged him by the hand out into the street. Glancing back, she wasn’t surprised to see him lifting a copy of _Icha Icha Tactics_ to his face, as if trying to hide the fact that he was holding hands with her in the middle of the village. An indulgent smile spread across her lips even as a familiar warmth filled her.

The man was perfectly at ease with reading porn in public, but awkward when it came to public displays of affection. Taking pity on him, Sakura released his hand. Still, she couldn’t resist placing a quick peck on his masked cheek. The medic couldn’t help but giggle as the typically stoic Copy Nin blushed furiously behind the pages of his book. He cleared his throat before commenting, “you’ve been laughing a lot today.”

“I can’t help it. You make me happy.”

She shot him a smile over her shoulder. He responded in kind, the eye creases she adored so much making their appearance. They strolled at a leisurely pace over to the market district, garnering knowing looks along the way. Sakura browsed a selection of kunai, but didn’t really see anything that she needed. Just as they were about to wander further, a familiar voice called out her name. Turning, she saw Mrs. Ito waving from beside a stand selling a variety of yarn.

Crossing the street, she and Kakashi went to greet her. Self-conscious about the shirt she was wearing, Sakura crossed her arms to cover up the words, hoping that the Kakashi’s neighbor hadn’t read them. “Hello, Mrs. Ito. How are you today?” the medic asked as Kakashi lifted his hand in greeting.

“It’s so wonderful to see you again, dear. I’m doing just fine, and the weather today was lovely, so I decided to pick up more supplies for the next knitting circle meeting.”

With great care, Sakura made sure to keep the back of her shirt—with the large _Icha Icha_ logo plastered on it—from being seen by Mrs. Ito as the woman showed them the balls of yarn she was selecting. “Oh!” the elderly exclaimed, picking up a skein of pale green yarn as she turned to face Kakashi. “You should knit Sakura a scarf with this, it would look lovely on her. Besides, I’ve never seen anyone that was more of a natural when it comes to knitting.”

The medic watched, incredibly amused, as he grabbed the back of his neck awkwardly. His neighbor placed the yarn in his free hand, giving him a gentle push to send him in the direction of the merchant so he could—reluctantly—pay. “We’ll be sure to attend the next meeting, won’t we?” Sakura said, laughing as she nudged the silver-haired shinobi when he returned from making his purchase.

“It was nice to see that you’ve taken young Hatake here out,” the elderly woman told her. “He’s been looking a little pale lately, and needed some color.”

She pulled the medic into a hug before doing the same to Kakashi. It never failed to amuse Sakura when she saw the delicately built elderly woman manhandle the infamous shinobi, especially since he towered over her. As Mrs. Ito left, she turned to Sakura, saying, “it’s so much fun to act out your favorite scenes from the _Icha Icha_ series, isn’t it?” She winked before dropping another bombshell. “I just wish that you young ones had made things official sooner so I could have won the bet.”

Sakura was left gaping in disbelief as the woman walked away, heat creeping into her cheeks. With a glance, she confirmed that even Kakashi was blushing a little, the faintest of red creeping above the edge of his mask. Their stunned silence was brought to an end when he turned to her. “So, what _is_ your favorite scene?” he asked with a smirk, causing her to roll her eyes in response. “Page sixty-nine, perhaps?” he added, waggling the eyebrow not hidden behind his hitai-ate.

The kunoichi playfully shoved her ridiculous best friend, sending him flying a few feet away. Jiraiya had taken that page quite literally, after all. Kakashi rubbed his arm, humor evident in his visible eye. “Humor me?” he asked.

She pretended to consider the request for a little while, before acquiescing. The thought of taking Mrs. Ito’s advice was too tempting to pass up, after all. “Fine.”

She whispered her answer in his ear before continuing to walk past other market stalls. It took a few seconds for her to realize that Kakashi was still standing where she had made her reveal. The dumbfounded expression on his face quickly changed into that predatory smile she’d come to anticipate. Sakura smiled back at him, knowing that later that night would prove to be… _interesting_.

* * *

Walking alongside his favorite medic, Kakashi glanced down at his feet. His open toe sandals revealed a surprising amount of the pink shuriken socks that he wore. He didn’t mind at all, especially since he was matching her. He had stopped caring what others—at least those who were not close to him—thought of him a long time ago. Therefore, he would proudly and unabashedly display the gift that his lovely girlfriend had given him. Also, he was confident that he could still strike terror into the heart of any enemy even while wearing cutesy, pink socks.

After their recent encounter with Mrs. Ito, their conversation turned to the topic of knitting briefly before it quickly derailed. “Don’t forget, I’ve copied more than jutsu over the years,” he said, suggestively raising an eyebrow.

“What,” the medic teased, “are you saying that you’re into voyeurism?”

“And you claim that _I’m_ the corrupting influence,” Kakashi replied, tone laden with sarcasm.

“I didn’t say that, Pakkun did.”

She shot him a cheeky smile. “Why do you hurt me like this?” he asked teasingly, head hanging down comically.

Later, he looked on indulgently as Sakura browsed a selection of dog toys—she spoiled his ninken enough already. He couldn’t help but listen to a conversation that he doubted he was supposed to overhear. “Nice socks.”

Turning, he faced two civilians that had begun to snicker after one of them had made the comment. Honestly, he was surprised that that the man had taken issue with his innocuous socks when he was wearing a shirt that declared his love of a—wrongly—ill-reputed book series. “I can direct you to the nearest store that sells them, since you seem to like them so much,” he interrupted flatly, startling the two men.

They recognized who he was and scurried away just as Sakura walked over to him. “They looked like they were in a hurry,” she commented, a bag full of rope toys dangling from her wrist.

“I think they were frightened by the realization that their hair will never look as great as mine.”

She laughed, and he fought the urge to close his eyes in bliss when one of her hands played with his hair. “I think they were frightened _by_ your hair.”

As they made their way through the rest of the market, he spotted an unfortunately familiar figure in an ANBU uniform. He witnessed the second that Hansa first noticed Sakura’s distinctive pink hair. And, as the eager boy tried to make his way over to her, hindered by all the foot traffic, Kakashi casually stepped closer to Sakura while pretending to read his book. A perverse sense of enjoyment filled him as he saw the boy’s crestfallen expression when he finally noticed what the two of them were wearing. The silver-haired shinobi had to admit that he enjoyed this unintentional benefit of the couple’s shirts.

Eventually, they made their way to their preferred training grounds. He summoned his pack, and the air was suddenly filled with the sounds of excited yips and barks as Sakura handed out their new toys. Sitting down, they stretched their legs out, resting their backs against Bull, who was content to lay in the grass, gnawing away at his new chew toy. He felt nothing less than utterly content when his girlfriend rested her head on his shoulder.

 _Girlfriend_.

The term struck him as a bit odd after being alone for so long. Mostly, though, it seemed like such an inconsequential word in regard to what they meant to one another

“It’s a good thing that you like pink,” she said, gesturing to their shirts and socks.

“Of course I do, I have a far superior fashion sense to Gai’s.”

They both laughed when she said, “I wonder if he’ll dehydrate himself from too many tears of joy when he finds out about us.”

He had told her once that his favorite color was pink, but that wasn’t entirely true. Kakashi could never quite decide if he favored pink or jade green. The same shade as the eyes he found himself gazing into. “Do I make you happy?” she asked.

Dryly, he responded, “what do you think?”

Sakura quirked a smile. “Happier than _Icha Icha_ makes you?”

“You make me happier than dogs do,” he whispered, leaning in close.

But, just as their lips were about to meet, his ninken ruined the moment. Bull abruptly lifted his head from where it rested on his paws to shoot Kakashi an affronted look. Pakkun, who apparently was still within earshot, paused in his antics to gripe, “yeah, well she makes us happier than you do, Boss.”

“I doubt that.”

“Don’t forget that I’m cuter than you,” the pug warned. “If I ever want to, I can easily steal her attention away from you.”

“Stop it, you two,” Sakura told them sternly as possible.

Though, she ruined the effect by dissolving in laughter. Warmth flooded him at the sight.

He couldn’t recall when exactly his feelings for her had begun to change into what they were today. Maybe it had been right around the time that his longing for her slowly changed from just fantasizing about passionate encounters to wanting passionate encounters _and_ to wake up in each other’s arms.

Saturdays spent in.

Laughing over takeout.

Throwing soap foam at one another while washing his dogs.

Years ago, if asked, Kakashi would have said that his ideal woman would be one straight from the pages of his beloved books. Now, however, he realized that his ideal woman was the pink-haired one that held the same undying appreciation for the _Icha Icha_ series that he did. One with whom he could act out their favorite scenes. Talk with about anything. Get through hard times with. The one that he would like to spend all of life’s embarrassing moments with.

Falling victim to a problem that had been occurring with increasing frequency over the past few years, he found that he couldn’t take his eyes off of Sakura.

She was better than perfect.

She was _real_.

Warm and flawed and so dedicated to helping others.

He briefly glanced down at the abandoned copy of _Icha Icha Tactics_ beside him before wrapping an arm around his favorite medic’s—his favorite everything, really—shoulders, resting his head against hers as she sighed happily. She couldn’t have been more right when she had said that reality was sometimes better than fantasy.

He tightened his hold on her, gazing out and watching his dogs running and playing in the grass. Kakashi couldn’t remember ever being happier. Pressing a kiss to Sakura’s temple, he felt that he was the luckiest man in the world to have fallen in love with his best friend.


End file.
